


Lou (The Prince of Vere)

by shanahane



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amnesia, Attempted Sexual Assault, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Drama, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nicaise (Captive Prince) Lives, Romance, auguste is a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25285939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanahane/pseuds/shanahane
Summary: And then Damen was face to face with Prince Auguste, the man he had thought to defeat and maybe kill on the battlefield all those years ago.“Well, he certainly looks capable.”Auguste’s tone matched the look on his face. Detached, uninterested. He regarded Damen for a moment or two before stepping around him to take a look at Lou.The gasp was unexpected.Even more unexpected was the desperate, broken: “Laurent?”--For seven years, Lou the Unnamed Veretian has lived a life of comfort in the Akileon court, after Damen finds him bloody and injured in the woods. For seven years, the fate of Laurent the Prince of Vere has remained unknown after he escapes from a camp without anyone noticing. For seven years, the evil plot to take over two kingdoms remains hidden in the mind of the one person who already stopped it once, but doesn't remember.
Relationships: Auguste & Laurent (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 301





	Lou (The Prince of Vere)

**Author's Note:**

> Well. Apparently working in tourism at the moment is good for something right now - I've had more time to write than I think I'd prefer. 
> 
> This one's a monster for a one-shot but I decided that I want to finish it before I publish and then figured what the hell, I'll just post it all in one go. I apologize. 
> 
> I have read through this but I don't have a beta reader so apologies for mistakes that I missed. I also want to point out that this story totally got away from me and if you find the ending rushed, I apologize for that, too. I was satisfied with it but I realize that some of you might not be. 
> 
> WARNINGS for attempted sexual assault - if you want to skip, move on from "You're the Veretian?" and continue reading from "Hey!"
> 
> Enjoy!

**Damen**

Damen had been ready for a fight.    


He had been expecting a battle. 

Yet here he was, watching his men collect their tents, getting the horses ready, and loading the carriages for the journey home. 

“Cowards,” his father murmured and Damen agreed. 

There had been a single messenger, carrying the letter of Vere’s surrender and their consent to redrawing the border. It had the royal seal and the signatures of both the king and the crown prince Auguste. Damen’s own scouts had come back to confirm that the Veretians had indeed turned back to Arles, leaving no man behind. 

Damen should be happy that there had been no blood spilled. But the adrenaline in his veins was making him too restless for that. He squeezed the handle of his sword, trying to pour his frustration into it. Finally, the king told him to ‘go help the men’, and Damen didn’t argue because it at least gave him something to do. 

Once the camp was ready, Damen refused to ride in the royal carriage and instead joined Nikandros in the front. They didn’t speak, and neither did the men around them. The rowdiness of when they were expecting half the men to die soon was gone, replaced by odd quiet and calm. 

Damen urged his horse forward. Nikandros didn’t follow him when he put some distance between himself and the rest. Damen knew there had been a chance he might have not made it home, had there been a battle. He was the best fighter in Akileos but if reports were to be trusted, Auguste was the best in Vere. They might have met, on the battlefield, and it would have been a fight to the death. This war had ended with minimal bloodshed, and Damen sort of hated himself for that sliver of disappointment he felt in his gut. 

Wrapped up in his thoughts, Damen didn’t see it until it was almost too late to stop his horse from stomping on it. In the middle of the road, there was a body, lithe and small, a child. Damen stopped and hopped off his horse to get a closer look. 

_ Dead _ , Damen thought at first. The back of the child’s head was covered in blood, the clothes were torn, and they had no shoes on. An arrow was sticking from their shoulder. A peasant child, most likely, maybe they had run into bandits who had stolen their horse. But as Damen crouched down, he noticed that the child was still breathing. A wave of proactiveness washed over him and he glanced over his shoulder, trying to determine how far behind he had left the others. No more than ten minutes, surely. 

“All right, come on.” As gently as he could muster, he picked the child up. He was tall enough to be 12 or 13, and though it was hard to tell by the face, if Damen had to guess, he’d say the child was a boy. A quiet groan escaped him, but he didn’t wake up, and somehow Damen maneuvered him onto the horse. 

He didn’t ride as hard as he turned back, mindful of the child’s injuries. Soon enough, he could see Nikandros and then the rest of the company. Nikandros gave him a weird look, but Damen ignored it as he searched for the physicians. Once he located them, he called the company to a halt and told them to set up camp, never mind that they had only travelled for merely 6 hours. 

“Damianos, what is this?” the king asked. The soldiers around Damen were quickly building a tent around the physicians who were already tending to the lost child. 

“I found him injured on the road up ahead. I couldn’t just leave him,” Damen explained. 

The king frowned. “He’s Veretian.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“He is.” 

“Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s a child, he’s not a soldier.” 

“Veretians do not have honor. For all we know, they use children as spies.” 

“Nevertheless, he’s injured, he’s a child, and we do have honor. I couldn’t leave him to die.” 

“Your heart is too soft, son,” the king sighed, but left it at that. 

Night fell, and Damen found himself hovering outside the physicians’ tent. Finally, one of them came out to tell him that the boy had woken up, but was barely coherent. 

“The arrow missed anything that’s vital. We stitched his wounds, but the blow to his head was hard. He is awake now, however he is not out of the woods. He needs to be woken up every few hours.” 

“I can do that.” 

“Oh, there is no need, Exalted, one of…”

“I will do that.” 

The physician tilted his head in a bow. “As you wish.” 

Damen didn’t know why he felt an obligation to watch over the boy. He had already saved his life. The boy had been tended to by people that would have been trusted with Damen injuries. And now Damen - the heir to the throne of Akileos - would sit with him through the night. 

“Hey,” he said softly as he stepped into the tent. The boy blinked at him but other than that did not react. “You’re safe,” he continued, switching to Veretian, suddenly glad of the long, boring hours spent in the stuffy castle with his language teachers. “No one here is going to hurt you. You’re under my protection.” He sat down next to the boy’s cot, trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible. “You’ve been through something rough, huh? How did you end up on the road?” 

The boy frowned. “I… I don’t…” 

“It’s okay,” Damen said when the boy clearly struggled. “Let’s start with something easier. My name is Damianos, but you can call me Damen. Everyone does. What’s your name?” 

The frown only deepened, and Damen saw panic flash in the boy’s eyes. “My - my name?” 

“Yes. I’d like to know what to call you.”

At first, the boy barely reacted. Then he let out a choked sound, his face twisting in distress as he gasped: “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t know, I can’t…” 

“Hey, hey…! Calm down. It’s okay,” Damen said. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder to stop him from getting up. “You’ve hit your head. I’m sure it’ll all come back to you once you’ve slept and recovered.” 

The boy shook his head, but Damen wasn’t sure if he had even heard him. His panic seemed to exhaust him, though, and he soon fell into a restless sleep. Damen sat back on his chair and prepared himself for what would be a long night. 

It surprised Damen himself more than anyone else that he opted to ride in the royal carriage with the nameless boy. His father’s disapproval was clear but silent, and the men respected Damen too much to question his choice. At first, the boy slept more than he was awake, and Damen barely managed to get him to eat or drink anything. The little that he did consume helped him gather some strength and by the time they reached Ios, he was awake at least as much as he slept. 

As his strength came back his memories, however, did not. 

“It must be scary,” Damen said as the boy whose name was still a question gazed out of the window of the carriage. “Being somewhere strange, not knowing where you came from.” 

“I don’t know if it’s strange,” the boy replied. “I don’t even know my name.” 

“You’re probably from a village near the border,” Damen said. “Once you’re all better, we can go looking for your family.” 

“From what I gather, you probably won’t be welcome to cross the border any time soon,” the boy said. 

“You’ve been listening to the men?” Damen asked. “You speak Akileon?” 

The boy shrugged. “A little, apparently. Makes sense if I’m from a village near the border.” 

Damen huffed. “Well, aren’t you a mystery.” 

“I’d rather I wasn’t.” 

Damen didn’t know how to respond to that.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. Damen studied the boy as he took in the scenery. He was so young, and appeared even younger due to the ever present uncertainty in his strikingly blue eyes. There was something about his posture and the way he held himself that made Damen wonder if his background was truly as humble as it appeared. 

The palace greeted them with little fanfare. They returned with no men lost, but from a battle that had never happened. The war had simply ended instead of won, and it didn’t require as grand a celebration as an honest victory would. 

“Take him to the slave master,” Theomedes said as Damen stepped out of the carriage and it took Damen a moment to realize he was talking about the boy. 

“What? No!” he protested when Nikandros started to follow his father’s orders. 

“What do you suggest then?” Theomedes asked. 

“I…” Damen paused. He glanced at the boy, who was hiding from Theomedes the best he could by standing behind him. A wave of protectiveness washed over Damen, and he found himself saying: “He’ll live in my quarters until he remembers where he comes from.” 

“That is hardly appropriate,” Theomedes protested. 

“He trusts me. He can have the rooms reserved for honored guests, at least for now.” 

“Damianos…” 

“He’s under my protection. I saved him, I’m responsible for him.” Damen wasn’t sure why he was contradicting his father so fiercely for the sake of a boy he didn’t know, but in his gut, he knew he was doing the right thing. “Come on,” he said to the boy in Veretian, and led him inside, ignoring the curious looks sent their way. 

“Do you want a bath?” Damen asked once they were in relative but blissful privacy. 

“I’m tired,” the boy replied. 

“That’s fine. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” Damen had to slow his steps to make sure the boy didn’t have to run to keep up. The halls that were so familiar to him were a cause of wonder to the boy and he stopped every now and then to marvel at his surroundings. “You know, we have to decide what to call you. I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘the boy’.” 

“Lou.”

“What?” 

“You can call me Lou.”

Damen raised his eyebrows. “So you remember your name?” 

“No,” the boy denied. “I hear it, sometimes, when I sleep. Like an echo.” 

“That’s good! That means it’s not all totally gone. We’ll be able to take you home soon, I’m sure.” 

“Maybe.” 

“But, until that happens, you can stay here,” Damen said as they reached the rooms where Lou would be staying. He gave him a moment to take it in, before continuing: “I’ll have the physicians check up on you every morning and night until they’re sure your wounds will not reopen. You can have your meals here, for now, I’m sure that will be less overwhelming. When you feel like you are up for it, you can join us for meals.”

“Us?”

“Myself, my father and brother. His mother joins us sometimes, too.”

“You have a younger brother?” Laurent asked. 

“Older. It’s… Well. It’s not a long story, actually. I’ll tell you when you feel better.” 

“Hmm.”

Damen watched as Lou looked around the room. His undeniably Veretian features felt very out of place in the room, and Damen could sense that Lou felt even more unsure than what he appeared. 

“Would you like me to stay and keep you company? Or would you like to be left alone?” he asked. 

“Alone, now. I think. But…” Lou said when Damen took a step to leave. “I… I wouldn’t mind… company. Your company… In the morning.”

Damen smiled. “I’ll see you in the morning, then. Try to stay awake for a little while, I’ll send the physician in a moment.”

“Thank you.” 

“No need to thank me. I hope you sleep well.” 

Damen left and closed the door behind him. He was alone for the first time in days, and it felt rather odd. It was weird how quickly he had grown accustomed to the boy being with him. 

For Lou’s sake, Damen hoped his memory would come back quickly. For his own, he found himself hoping that getting his memories back wouldn’t mean he’d forget Damen. 

It took a while, but Lou did become part of the court, however unofficial. Those few who genuinely did not like him - like, unfortunately, Kastor - tended to ignore his existence but there were not many that Lou didn’t manage to win over. Damen’s guard greeted Lou with smiles and even Nikandros, after a year of pretending otherwise, finally had to admit to Damen that ‘the boy wasn’t so bad. For a Veretian.’ 

(Lou may or may not have verbally assassinated a courtier Nikandros particularly disliked earlier that day.) 

But however fond the court grew of Lou, he still preferred his own, and Damen’s, company. He spent much of his time in the library, studying the language and history of the country that was slowly becoming his home, and that’s where Damen found him after a significantly long day of training. 

“You brute!” was the greeting he received. “Go bathe.” 

“I will,” Damen said and took a seat opposite to Lou. “What are you reading?” 

“The story of Gaia and Cadmus.”

“Hm. I haven’t heard it.”

“They are your great-great-great-great grandparents. But I’m not surprised,” Lou said. He marked the page gently and closed the book. “I’ve hardly ever seen you focus on anything written longer than a moment.”

Damen didn’t deny it. “When you’re finished, tell me how it ended.” 

“Or I could tell you the whole story. It could prove to be an educational experience. I promise to invent a couple of sword fights to keep you interested.” 

“Deal,” Damen smiled. 

“Now, did you need me for something?” 

“Join me for my bath?”

“You have your… slaves.”

“I’ll send them away. I’ve missed you today.”

“You have not had the time to miss me. I doubt you took a decent break while training,” Lou said but, to Damen’s delight, did get up. “You will turn around while I undress.”

“I always do,” Damen said. Although they did not know how old Lou was exactly, he did appear to be old enough for Akileons to deem him a man, which made bathing an appropriate opportunity for the two friends to talk and laugh in privacy. The fact that Damen always stayed in his corner of the bath was one of the stones in the strong-founded trust between them.

“If you are to teach me about my ancestors,” Damen said as Lou slipped into the water. “I could teach your sword fighting.”

“To what end?” Lou asked. “Do you expect me to need such a skill?” 

“I don’t believe anyone has the power to predict the future. But I wouldn’t teach you because you might one day need to defend yourself. I’d teach you because you might enjoy it.”

“I doubt I did much physical labor in my previous life,” Lou said. 

“You took to riding rather quickly. I’d say there’s a chance you’re not a complete novice with a sword. Your muscles might remember things your mind doesn’t.” 

Lou made circles in the water with his finger. Damen followed the movement, finding it calming. “All right, then. You can teach me the basics. I want the lessons to be private, though.”

“No one would make fun of you,” Damen said. 

“Private, Damen.”

“As you wish,” Damen relented. “When do you want to start?”

“...should take a break now.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Lou, your arm is shaking.”

Damen frowned as he stepped around the corner to see Lou and Nikandros circling each other in the garden of the Summer Palace. They were both holding practice swords and it was clear that Lou was indeed fatigued, though by looking at his face, one would never guess it. 

“One more time.”

“No. Damen will have my head if you get hurt.” 

“It is time for a meal anyway,” Damen said to get his friends’ attention. Nikandros was quick to lower his sword and bow his head in a formal greeting but Lou merely huffed. 

“It is not, you just missed breakfast,” he said. His tone was strangely accusing. 

“I did and I’m famished. Come keep me company at least?” Damen requested. “The sun is about to reach its peak, it’s not wise to train when the heat gets that intense.” 

Lou glanced at the sky. Then, reluctantly, he let the sword drop onto the ground. His posture relaxed and he accepted the cup of water Nikandros offered him with a grateful nod. 

“You are improving,” Nikandros praised him. “I just think we need to chop off some of your pride. Knowing your limits is an important part of the training.” 

“I do know my limits and I had not yet reached them,” Lou said. His legs, however, gave up as soon as he took a step forward. Damen caught him easily with a chuckled ‘whoa’ and Nikandros shook his head in purely disguised amusement.

“Yes, I can see that.” 

“Do stop talking,” Lou snapped. His face was flushed and Damen guessed it wasn’t just because of the heat. “Let go of me.”

“What has soured your mood so badly?” Damen asked but did help Lou stand up. 

“It’s nothing,” Lou answered. “Let’s find food before you starve to death.” 

As the three of them enjoyed a selection of fresh fruits and bread, Nikandros teased Damen about the reason he had slept in so late. Lou did not participate in this conversation and his mood only seemed to get worse even as his strength returned. 

“I’m going to the library,” he announced when the two slaves that had occupied Damen for the night came in with a platter of sweetmeats. 

“Has he been like this the whole morning?” Damen asked as he watched Lou’s retreating back. 

“Yes. His company has been an absolute delight,” Nikandros said. “I believe it’s the heat. He’s not used to it being this intense so it might be that he is not sleeping very well.”

“Hmm.” 

It was true that the last month or so had been warmer than what Lou had probably ever experienced before, even after living in Akileos for nearly two years. Still, it was rare for him to so openly express that he was less than content and Damen could not completely push back his stab of worry. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Pallas came in with a letter from Ios. Damen opened it, expecting a rather dull read, and was mildly surprised by a piece of information Theomedes had included in his report.

“The Prince of Vere is dead,” he said. 

“Hm? The crown prince? Auguste, correct?” Nikandros asked. 

“No, the younger one. Laurent,” Damen answered. “Shame. If I’m not completely mistaken, he was not older than 16.” 

“Does it say what happened?” 

“No. A boy that young, maybe an injury?”

“Well,” Nikandros said and poured them both a cup of wine. “It would be rude not to drink to his honor. To Laurent of Vere!” he declared and downed half the cup in one go. Damen took a sip of his own, his eyes still on the letter.

The peace treaty had been signed without the two royal families ever meeting. There still had not been any diplomatic visits nor were any planned and the discussions about trade were trusted to the Kyroi. Damen wondered if he would ever get a chance to meet his equal in Vere before one of them was crowned. Not that he felt a particular need for such a meeting, he just often wished he could ask what had caused the Veretians to retreat. 

Later, when it was clear that Nikandors had perhaps a cup too many to continue training, Damen went to find Lou. He was no longer in the library and Damen found him in his own rooms, sitting in a corner where the sun didn’t reach at any time, so it was cooler there than probably anywhere else. He acknowledged Damen’s entrance by briefly looking up from the book his was reading but when Damen told him the news about the prince’s death, he actually paused and put the book down. 

“There’s a record of him in the Book of Veretian Kings and Queens,” he said. “Just a name in the line of succession and a brief description. He took after his mother, who died of a long illness. Could be he succumbed to the same fate.”

“Maybe,” Damen said. “Are you feeling better?” 

Lou’s mouth formed a thin line. “Yes,” he said but Damen wasn’t convinced. At least he didn’t deny ever being in a sour mood. 

“Nikandros will be unable to continue with you today,” Damen said and Lou rolled his eyes. “I can continue with you if you really want. We did come here to relax, though.”

“You’ve certainly relaxed a lot while we’ve been here. I wouldn’t want to make you too tired to relax some more tonight.” 

“We could find you someone to relax with as well if you…”

“No!” 

It was so loud and sharp that Damen flinched back. For a moment, Lou looked downright angry but the expression on his face soon melted to shame and he swallowed. 

“I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want anyone in my bed. Especially… especially someone who can’t… refuse.” 

Damen had suspected for some time that Lou was not completely comfortable with the Akileon tradition of keeping slaves. Never before, however, had he been this clear about how he felt about it. 

“Very well then,” Damen settled on saying as he did not want to get into an argument. “Do you want to go riding, when the weather cools down a little. I have yet to show you some of the most beautiful spots.” 

Lou agreed and Damen hoped it was not only to make up for his sudden outburst. 

  
  


A little before the fifth anniversary of the day Damen found Lou, Theomedes sent Damen on a tour to meet the Kyroi. Damen had wanted to bring Lou along, but Theomedes refused. Even though Lou was an accepted part of the court by now, he had no official ranking as anything more than ‘Damen’s close friend’, and so Theomedes deemed his participation to be inappropriate and feared some of the Kyroi would take offense. And so Damen set out without Lou, and it made his heartache, though he could not quite understand why. 

He was gone for six months. 

He ended up returning a few days ahead of schedule, which meant no welcome feast had been set up. That suited Damen just fine, and after greeting his father and Kastor maybe a little more quickly than what was strictly appropriate, he almost jogged his way to his own quarters. 

He announced himself with a short knock and then pushed Lou’s door open. He stepped in with a huge smile on his face, ready to declare his arrival, but stopped short at the sight of Lou on the balcony, haloed by the evening sun, eyes closed, seemingly unaware that his peace had been disturbed. 

Lou was beautiful. 

Breathtaking. 

How had Damen never…?

Damen blinked. He had. Lou had  _ always _ been beautiful. Damen had watched him grow up from a beautiful child into a beautiful young man, but now suddenly his beauty struck him like a bucket of cold water on his face. 

The feelings that rushed through Damen then did not surprise him. They felt familiar and warm and he welcomed them happily. 

“Damen!” Suddenly Damen’s arms were full of Lou as the younger man rushed to embrace him. “I missed you! I’ve been watching the road, I…”

Damen pulled back slightly. His heart hammed in his chest as he lifted his hands to cup Lou’s face. 

“...Damen?"

Slowly, silently asking for permission, Damen inched forward. A breath away from Lou’s lips, he paused, but when Lou didn’t move, he closed the distance.    
Lou’s mouth was soft, innocent, but eager in a way that told Damen his feelings were returned. 

“Oh!” Lou gasped into the kiss. He sounded breathless. 

Damen couldn’t help but smirk. “I missed you, too.” 

Later that evening, naked and under the covers, Damen suddenly sat up. “You!” 

“I…?” Lou said. 

“You were jealous! In the Summer Palace! That’s what bothered you, not the heat!” 

A little pink appeared on Lou’s cheeks. “Oh, hush you. You know it was not the only thing on my mind.” 

Damen did know, but he chose not to focus on that. “How long?” Damen asked, pushing some of Lou’s hair behind his ear. 

The pink on Lou’s cheeks deepened. “A… while. A long while. Too long. I - I was still a child, in many ways.” 

“I’m sorry you had to wait for me to come to my senses.”

“Don’t be. I only really realized my feelings had turned from a child’s crush to something deeper while you were gone.” 

“Hm.” Damen lowered himself back onto the mattress so that the two of them were face to face. “I am going to court you.” 

“Your father won’t allow it.”

“I will court you nonetheless.” 

“He will want you to have a wife. And children.” 

“I want you.” 

“You have me. But you need…”

“You.” 

Lou sighed. “Damen…” 

“I don’t want or need anything else right now. Don’t think about it.” 

Lou let out one more quiet sigh but closed his eyes and nodded. Damen pulled him to his chest and decided this was all he would ever want or need.

  
  


It wasn’t until Damen turned down the chance to court Jokaste that Theomedes finally acknowledged that Lou was more than a passing thrill of first love. The acknowledgment was mixed with disapproval. 

“You can keep him if you want, but you need a wife. You need an heir!” 

“Keep him? He’s not a pet!” 

“He’s Veretian. He might have been, once. He’s pretty enough.” 

“Father, that is not…” 

“You will not marry him. I’ve grown fond of him, but the fact remains that we know nothing of his background. And unless he suddenly remembers being the long-dead Prince of Vere then we’ll have to assume his status is too far beneath yours for a marriage to be an option even if he was able to carry children.” 

Damen was quiet for a long moment before declaring: “Then I guess I will remain unmarried for a very long time. No, Father,” he said sternly when Theomedes opened his mouth. “I love him. I respect him. I refuse to reduce him to a secret everyone knows about. I might not be allowed to marry him yet but let it be known throughout the land that I shall still remain true to him.” 

_ Yet _ . 

Damen saw his father’s eyes flash at that word. While it wouldn’t be for years, one day Damen would be the one on the throne. He’d be advised against marrying Lou even then but no one would have the power to stop him from doing it.

He made his intentions perfectly clear to the entire court two weeks later, when they received a formal invitation to attend Prince Auguste’s coronation. 

“You’re coming with me,” he declared to Lou that night. 

“You’re the most impractical man,” Lou sighed, but Damen caught the pleased blush on his cheeks. “So, what will I be? Your formal lover?” 

“Betrothed.”

“Damen…” 

“My father won’t be here to stop us forever.” 

“Don’t say that. You love your father.  _ I _ love your father,” Lou said. “We want him to be here to stop us for a long time.”

“Lou,” Damen said, hearing the undertone in Lou’s voice. “I won’t marry anyone else.” 

Lou looked up at him, his eyes shining. “So impractical…” he said again. 

“Please, Lou,” Damen whispered. “Come with me to Vere. Who knows, we might find out where you came from.” 

“I doubt that,” Lou chuckled. 

“But you’ll come with me?” 

“I’ll come with you,” Lou confirmed. “It’ll be entertaining if nothing else. Explaining to the Veretian royalty how the crown prince of Akileos ended up engaged to a Veretian man with no name.” 

“Do try not to outshine Prince Auguste during his own coronation celebrations.” 

“I make no promises.” 

“Of course not,” Damen laughed as he dived in for a kiss. 

A month later, they were on their way to Vere. 

Instead of the royal cabin, however, they were chained to a pole below deck, back to back, gagged, and barely clothed. 

There was too much going through Damen’s head for him to focus on just one thing so he tried to focus on the sound of Lou’s breathing. Deliriously, Damen was grateful to Kastor. He could have ordered them to kill Lou. Instead, Lou was here, with Damen, chained and gagged but alive. 

“...sends his apologies. The death of his father and his brother the crown prince has left the country quite vulnerable, so he cannot attend your coronation. He sends you a gift to offer his congratulations.” 

“How generous of him.” 

And then Damen was face to face with Prince Auguste, the man he had thought to defeat and maybe kill on the battlefield all those years ago. 

“Well, he certainly looks capable.”

Auguste’s tone matched the look on his face. Detached, uninterested. He regarded Damen for a moment or two before stepping around him to take a look at Lou. 

The gasp was unexpected. 

Even more unexpected was the desperate, broken: “Laurent?” 

* * *

**Auguste**

Auguste was used to the noises around the camp. Despite being a prince and having lived his life in luxury, he usually had no trouble sleeping in his simple tent, surrounded by the sounds of footsteps, horses, talking, fires. Tonight though, everything irritated him, and he couldn’t get comfortable. Something nagged in the back of his mind. He kept reaching for his sword as if his body was preparing itself for an attack without his mind realizing it.   
After some time of this futile attempt to get rest, he got up, tied his sword around his waist, and left his tent. He told his guards he’d be back in a short while and gave them permission to find something to eat. He started his way towards the edge of the camp. He knew the soldiers followed his every move, that there were at least 5 men ready to defend him at all times should there be an attack, but he let himself forget that, to enjoy the illusion of being left alone. 

He reached the edge of the camp. The road they had traveled was dark, just slightly illuminated by the stars and the moon. If he started walking now, the road would eventually lead back to Arles, the city that was still mourning the death of the queen. Auguste himself had stored his grief to be dealt with after the war when he was sure his country and the rest of his family was safe. 

When Laurent was safe. 

Somewhere down the road, a day or so behind them, Laurent was traveling with their uncle, guarded by the best of Auguste’s own personal Prince’s Guard. He was as safe as he could possibly be outside the palace, and yet Auguste was sure some of his restlessness was due to his ever-present worry for his younger brother. 

The sound of galloping interrupted his thoughts. Instinctively, his hand went to his sword. The stars and the moon were not bright enough for Auguste to recognize the Veretian symbol until the rider was already dangerously close. Instead of relaxing, though, Auguste felt his entire body tense. 

“Your Highness!”

“...Jord?” 

Jord brought his horse to a halt, both him and the animal panting. Some of the men had been alerted by Jord’s call, and they took the reins as Jord jumped down. 

“Your Highness. I came as quickly as I could, I…” 

“Was your camp attacked?” Auguste cut Jord off.

Jord paused. “No. No, but…” 

“Then why are you here instead of with Laurent? I thought my instructions were clear when I told you not to leave his side.” 

“He - he is not here then?” 

Auguste felt as if the ground under him disappeared. Air got stuck in his lungs, and he could barely get out the words: “No, he is not.” 

Jord swallowed, his eyes wide. “We know he wasn’t taken, Your Highness, his horse is gone, too, and there was no sign of struggle in his tent. He can’t have had more than a few hours headstart, I… I thought I’d catch him.” 

“You assumed he’d come here?” 

“We did send riders to other directions, too, but… Auguste. Where else would he want to go?” 

Auguste wasn’t sure if the world was tilting or if it was, in fact, him. He managed to order his men to form a search party, and one unlucky boy to ‘wake up the king’. His restlessness from before had turned into a panic that, despite all his training, he was having a hard time controlling. His men, thankfully, sprung into action with his minimal instructions. 

“I am so sorry, Your Highness, this…” 

Something snapped, and suddenly Jord was pinned against a tree with Auguste’s face an inch or two from his. “You were not to leave his side!” 

“He was never unguarded, Auguste, not once!”

“Then how did he manage to sneak out of the camp? He’s a boy of 13, he’s a prince! How did no one see him?!” 

“I - I don’t know, I swear we never…” 

“Auguste!” The sound of his father’s voice made Auguste release Jord. “What is the meaning of this? Why are there men preparing horses in the middle of the night? And why is Jord here?” 

“Laurent is missing,” Auguste said. Saying the words made it more real, and he wanted to vomit. 

The king’s expression barely changed, but Auguste could see the change in his demeanor. “Was he kidnapped?” he asked Jord, and Auguste recognized his voice as the same he had used to ask Pascal if his wife could recover. 

“No, Your Majesty, we do believe he left on his own.” 

“His horse is gone, too,” Auguste added. “Jord has sent out men to look for him and the men here are getting ready to go, too. We have to assume he was on his way here and got lost.” 

“Or was attacked,” Aleron said. “Gods with that boy, so impulsive! We are days away from a battle to end this war and he decides to disobey direct orders!” The worry behind Aleron’s anger was masked to anyone but his son. “Is my brother aware of my son’s disappearance?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty. He sent his own men after Laurent, too.” 

For some reason, the idea of his uncle’s men finding Laurent made Auguste uncomfortable. 

The night dragged on and eventually turned into morning. The word of Laurent being missing quickly reached those who had slept through the commotion. Auguste itched to go and join the search party but his father forbid it, trapping Auguste in the camp where his men clapped him on the shoulder and offered sympathies, all the while making the camp ready to be moved. 

Auguste wanted to scream. 

It was some time after mid-day when one of Aleron’s men returned to camp, dragging a ragged looking bandit behind him. 

“Your Majesty!” he called out. “This one knows something.” He reached for something he had wrapped carefully inside his saddlebag. Auguste’s heart sank when he saw what it was. 

“Laurent’s circlet.” 

White-hot rage consumed Auguste and he had the bandit on the ground a second later. “The boy you took this from, where is he?!” 

“I didn’t hurt him,” he bandit choked out. 

“You’re lying! This circlet belongs to the Prince of Vere and he’d never give it up willingly! Where is he,  _ what did you do to him _ ?!”

“Nothing, nothing, we did nothing! We scared him, we robbed him, but we did him no harm, we wanted him no harm! We let him go!”

“Then where is he? Where…” 

“Your Highness!” 

A spike of hope made Auguste’s heart jump. He let go of his hold of the bandit’s throat and looked up, but the hope was quickly extinguished. There was no sign of Laurent, and the man looked pained. 

“Your Highness. We found his horse.” 

“Just his horse?” 

“Yes.”

“And?” Auguste prompted when the man struggled with his next words.

“She was dead, Your Highness. Shot twice with an arrow.” 

“It wasn’t us!” the bandit swore. “We just wanted his gold.” 

“The arrow was well made, Your Highness, it’s unlikely the bandits did it.” 

“You listen to him, lad, we wouldn’t hurt a…” 

“Shut up,” Auguste snapped. “See if he has anything else that doesn’t belong to him and let him go,” he told his men. The bandit was dragged away, and Auguste was left alone with Jord and the man who brought him the news of the horse. “He’s on foot. He’ll be slow, he should be easier to find.” 

“Your Highness…” Jord started. “No one would kill his horse just to kill the horse.” 

“He has some skill with a sword.” 

“He’s 13.” 

“So, what? You think they shot him, too? Or tied and gagged him and put him in a wagon to take him to Akielos to sell him as a slave? What?” 

“Whoever they are, it is likely they know who he is. They should know you’d pay more than any Akileon slave-trader to have him back.” 

“Am I to just wait for demands? I can’t… I can’t do nothing, Jord.” 

Patience had always been one of Laurent’s virtues. 

“That is exactly what you will do,” Aleron said as he joined them. “I have sent a message to the Akileon camp with our terms of peace. I have discussed them with our chief generals and we believe the Akileons will find the treaty more than agreeable. As hungry for blood as those barbarians are known to be, I am sure they will not risk losing everything when they have a chance to gain land with no bloodshed.”

Auguste and Jord were both stunned to silence. “Your Majesty,” Jord, who found his voice first, bega. “You are giving up…?”

“Yes. Laurent will feel the consequences of his actions if he is found, but I will not send our army into a battle in this state of mind. I am even less willing to send out my best swordsman when he is clearly distraught,” Aleron said, his eyes on Auguste. Auguste looked away but did not see the point in denying his father’s accusation. “There will be many who disagree with this decision. Your uncle will be one of them. I expect your full support when we return to court.”

“Of course, father.” 

“And Jord. I am sure you did not mean for this to happen but Laurent  _ was _ your responsibility. As you are part of Auguste’s guard, he will decide on the appropriate disciplinary actions.”

“I will accept whatever punishment I am given,” Jord said. 

“I will not punish you,” Auguste said when Aleron was out of earshot. 

“Your Highness, I…” 

“It was unfair of me to blame you. Laurent has escaped from a full ballroom without anyone noticing. He regularly escapes from his tutors. If he had a good reason to leave camp, as I’m sure he did, I’m not surprised he found a way to do so unnoticed.” 

He sounded defeated even to his own ears. He felt exhausted and yet almost painfully aware of everything around him. His body was begging for rest, but his mind forced him to stay alert. 

“I refuse to believe he is dead,” he said. 

Jord did not reply. 

On Laurent’s 15th birthday, Aleron sent his pet to fetch Auguste from his rooms. Auguste followed with a growing sense of dread, which turned into heartbreak when he saw that Aleron was wearing black. 

“Father…” 

“The latest search party returned yesterday.”

Auguste swallowed. “Yes.”

“Again, they came back with no news.” 

“Yes.” 

“No more, Auguste.” 

Auguste’s hands formed into fists and he struggled to keep his voice steady. “We still haven’t found a body. Not even bones.” 

“The country has to be allowed to mourn.  _ We _ …” Aleron sighed. “...have to allow ourselves to mourn.” 

“That means we are accepting that he is dead.”

“He  _ is _ dead, Auguste. Pretending otherwise means you will never heal,” Aleron said. “You will be a king one day. You will marry and have children of your own. I pray you will never lose one. The pain, it’s… It’s like a dagger to the heart that keeps turning.” 

It was not often that Aleron showed weakness and Auguste was momentarily left speechless. 

“I… regret… not knowing him better. Your mother loved him so dearly. Loved you both. She saw the value in the talents Laurent possessed better than I did. I put too much emphasis on physical strengths and did not understand Laurent’s inclination to books.” 

Auguste did not attempt to stop the tears that fell on his cheeks. “He was supposed to be safe,” he said. “How did he become the only victim? He was 13! We left him behind for a reason. How - how is he the victim of the war and not me?” 

“Life is rarely fair, my son,” Aleron said. “Laurent was supposed to become your most trusted advisor and it is a cruel twist of fate that it is not to be so. Today, however, let’s remember him the way he deserves, and take comfort in the many good memories we have of him. Tomorrow, we will announce his death.” 

A sob shook Auguste’s body and he put his face into his hands. He allowed himself to cry until he felt a cool cup being pressed into his hand. He took it and looked up to see his father holding a cup of his own, a grim look on his face. 

“To Laurent.”

“To -” Auguste took a breath. “To Laurent.”

They drowned the wine in the cups in one go. They allowed no one in for the rest of the night as they recalled moments from Laurent’s childhood, from the day of his birth until the days before his disappearance. 

The next day, Auguste followed his father’s example and dressed in black. The tapestries in the throne room were changed and a word was sent out to the citizens of Vere as well as the neighboring kingdoms. Laurent’s name was etched into a stone that was placed next to the grave of the Queen. 

And yet, privately before sleep or when riding, Auguste still hoped. He never voiced his hope, not to anyone, but it was there, always, and he knew it would never completely go away. 

That way at least, he could keep Laurent alive in his heart. 

  
  


It wasn’t until the second assassination attempt that they realized there had been a first. Auguste had thought he was merely drunk but when he found himself unable to even react to the unknown man in his room, he realized his wine had been tampered with. 

It was pure luck that saved him. As the man rushed forward with his sword, Auguste stumbled and fell, causing the man to miss and lose his footing. He didn’t recover quickly enough to escape Jord who had stormed in and soon the attempted murderer lay in a pool of his own blood in the middle of Auguste’s room. 

“I - I’ve felt this way before,” Auguste murmured, looking at the blood that was inching closer. 

“Your Highness, we have to get you out of here.”

“There was… there was a party. A month…? Ago?” 

“...yes, sir. Laurent’s birthday.”

Laurent. 

Yes.

Laurent would be 17 now. He’d be furious that someone dared to lace Auguste’s drink. 

“I was - I was drugged then, too,” Auguste realized as he attempted this weird puzzle in his muddled mind. “Why am I not dead?” 

“You, uh… slept in Laurent’s chambers. Do you remember?” 

Auguste closed his eyes. He shook his head, but he did indeed remember now that Jord said it. He did not remember going there but he did recall waking up. He had cried that morning and then ordered the room to be cleaned up and for it to be cleaned up regularly from then on. 

“We should probably go there now, sir. I sent Lazar to fetch Paschal and Orlant to alert your father. Come on, Your Highness. I’ll help you.”

Auguste’s mind was too cloudy for him to protest the way Jord practically dragged him along. He didn’t become aware of his surroundings until he was unceremoniously dumped on a bed that he slowly recognized as Laurent’s. His throat closed up as it often did when he was reminded of his brother and he turned to his side. A groan escaped him and suddenly Jord was in his line of sight. 

“Are you hurt, Your Highness?”

“...mmnh…”

“Auguste! Talk to me, are you hurt?”

“...no. No, don’t think so.”

“Your Highness, I will force your eyes open.”

It was Paschal now that spoke. Auguste had not even realized he had closed his eyes but then they were indeed forced open as Paschal’s trusted hands examined him. 

“It’s true that he’s been drugged. It should be out of his system by morning and I don’t see any physical injuries. He might feel feverish as he’s clearly been given a stronger dose than what is considered the norm.”

“Will it leave any lasting effects?” Auguste heard his father ask. Suddenly, he felt rather humiliated. 

“It should not. However, I would advise that he’s never given wine that has not been deemed safe. There is no record of how this drug affects the body if strong doses are given regularly.”

“You believe there will be another attempt at his life?”

“That is not for me to guess.”

“Hm. Very well. Thank you, Paschal.”

“Your Majesty.” 

Auguste heard the door open and close. Then he felt an uncharacteristically gentle hand go through his hair once. 

“I wonder if someone wanted Laurent to just be the first.”

It was the last thing Auguste heard before he fell asleep. It wasn’t until the morning he realized what his father had meant. 

  
  


His father and uncle both insisted that Auguste was never to be left unguarded. There was no spare anymore, his uncle pointed out, the kingdom could not stand to lose him. It had taken a fair amount of willpower for Auguste not to break his nose. 

After a failed attempt to murder the king’s brother, Aleron’s worry over his son’s safety grew significantly. A small part of Auguste would have liked the murder of his uncle to have been successful and that part grew louder at the sight of the young boy by his uncle’s sickbed. He had argued that particular matter with his father a number of times and was yet to succeed in making a significant change. He knew that while his uncle recovered, Aleron would not listen to his complaints, so he swallowed them as well as the complaints about the lack of privacy. 

“Do you know his name?” he asked one day while out riding with Jord, Lazar, and Orland for company. 

“Who, Your Highness?” Lazar asked. 

“My uncle’s new pet. The boy who sits by him.”

Lazar shook his head no and Orland shrugged his shoulder. Jord, however, said: “Nicaise.”

“How old is he?”

“11.” 

Auguste’s blood boiled in his veins. 

“Your Highness, he’s in a contract with your uncle. There’s nothing…”

“I outrank him. He wouldn’t dare to disagree if I wanted to buy the boy’s contract.”

Lazar cleared his throat. “People would talk. I know you wouldn’t touch the boy!” he hurried to say when Auguste shot him a murderous look. “But some would think you share your uncle’s… preferences. That it’s legal does not make it popular.” 

“And… Auguste. He’d just get another one,” Jord added. 

Auguste closed his eyes. “He was… alone with Laurent. Wasn’t he? Before Laurent disappeared.”

“He would not have dared,” Orland said quickly. 

“It’s true. He knows you would have had him flogged, or worse,” Jord said. 

“I just…” Auguste sighed. “I wonder, still. Why he left camp that night.” 

“Laurent was his nephew,” Orland said but there was some uncertainty in his voice now. 

_ Yes, he is  _ Auguste thought. And more beautiful than most pets in Vere, if here were to believe some unwelcome comments from courtiers and guards alike. 

“Find out how much I need to pay to buy Nicaise’s contract,” he said as he urged his horse forward. He did not see the look his companions shared behind his back. 

  
  


7 years had passed since Laurent disappeared, Auguste was still under guard at all times, and the sharp grief had dulled into something Auguste could live with. Aleron noticed immediately when Auguste’s gaze was starting to linger on women and soon the entire country and even those beyond their borders seemed to know Auguste was looking to marry. 

Auguste’s bed had not been cold but he had only allowed himself the pleasure of a woman when he knew his possible bastard would live in comfort and never know shame. Within the borders of Vere, he found comfort in male pets, though they did not quite bring him the same satisfaction. He sometimes wondered if he should ask his father for permission to visit Akileos - something that despite the peace he had never done - as he had heard stories about their pleasure slaves that admittedly made him curious, as barbarian as he found the tradition of keeping slaves to be. 

He had made Nicaise his ward, which effectively kept him safe from lingering gazes and more importantly, the glutches of Auguste’s uncle. The boy had resented him at first and accused Auguste of robbing him of the chance of being the most well-kept pet in all the kingdom. His resentment grew at first when Auguste refused to bed him, but Auguste had softened him with a promise of a more important job, for which he would pay the jewelry Nicaise so very much liked. 

And Nicaise was good at the job Auguste gave him. A handful of guards were dismissed when their less than honorable actions were revealed. A few hopeful women were sent away after Nicaise brought back secrets of their true nature. Nicaise was Auguste’s eyes and ears in places that would have otherwise been blind spots. 

All thoughts of marriage disappeared when Auguste woke up one cold morning to the news of his father’s death. 

“I… I’m… What?”

“Your Highn… Majesty,” Jord corrected himself and Auguste almost passed out. “His servants alerted Paschal a while ago. Paschal has declared him dead. He - slept away in the night, it seems. I’m sure Paschal can explain it better.”

He couldn’t. His apparent confusion at the king’s sudden death was a cause of worry in itself. There had been no attempts against Auguste’s or his uncle’s life for years but now Auguste was starting to think it was only a matter of time. 

Someone wanted them gone and Auguste was quite sure Laurent would have been able to tell them who. 

“...take place two months from now, when the mourning period is over.”

“I’m sorry. What?”

His uncle sighed but the sad smile on his face was understanding. For that moment, their disagreement about pets had been put aside. Auguste was still in his nightclothes, sitting in his father’s - his - office, unable to gather his thoughts. 

“Your coronation. It will take place after the period of mourning is over.”

“Right. Yes.”

“Invitations will be sent to the neighboring kingdoms, including Akileos. It will be the first time the two royal families have met since the beginning of the war. It will be a historical event in that regard as well.”

“Hmm.”

“I apologize. We should not speak of such things. You have just lost your father and I, my beloved brother. I will ask for your meals to be brought to your rooms. I’m sure you would rather be alone.”

His uncle was right. Auguste welcomed the solitude that followed his departure. The dulled grief was sharp again, but not in the same way as before. Auguste had always known he would most likely outlive his father. He had thought, though, that he’d have years still to prepare for the role that was now, all too suddenly, his. 

Auguste leaned forward on the chair he was sitting on. He felt lightheaded. How long he sat there, he did not know, but he didn’t move until Lazar and Jord came to tell him that his breakfast was ready in his chambers. 

“At least now you can change the law,” Lazar said. He yelped when Jord kicked his shin. Auguste, however, was strangely grateful for the comment. 

“I can find out who did it,” Nicaise said later in the evening. 

“Did what?” Auguste asked. 

“Who killed the king.” 

Auguste shook his head. “He fell ill, Nicaise.” 

“Did he?” 

“Mm.” 

“How convenient.” 

Auguste decided not to reply. 

  
  


Auguste wanted to scream, laugh, cry, and vomit at the same time. He choked out: “Laurent?” to which his brother replied with merely a blink. With a jolt that made him stumble, Auguste realized Laurent was chained and gagged, that he was bleeding. 

“Laurent. Gods, Laurent…!” 

He dropped onto his knees and all but ripped the gag off him. 

“Unchain him.” 

“Your Highness, we…” 

“You heard me! Unchain him. Now!” Laurent was frowning, his breathing hard. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Laurent, this should have never… I don’t… Laurent, you’re alive!” A near-hysterical laugh escaped Auguste as he cradled Laurent’s face between his hands. “I did hope. We never found your body so I hoped, even though everyone said you were dead, that you were surely dead. I should have insisted that we kept looking for you, I’m so sorry, I… No, give them to me,” he said to the guard who struggled with the keys. His own hands were trembling, but he managed to open Laurent’s chains with little difficulty. 

The moment he was free, Laurent stumbled to the other captive. 

“Damen? Damen, are you all right?” 

Confused, Auguste watched as Laurent carefully removed Damen’s gag. “Are you hurt?” were the first words out of Damen’s mouth. Laurent shook his head no. “Lou… My father…” 

Auguste’s heart jumped. “Lou?” 

When Laurent turned to look at him, Auguste saw only anger and defiance. “Yes?” 

“He - he calls you Lou?” 

“He does. It’s my name.” 

“But… Laurent, it’s…” 

“I’m sorry,” Laurent cut him off. “I am of Veretian origin so it is possible that I resemble your brother. I can assure you, however, that I am not him.” 

It took a lot of willpower to keep his voice from shaking as Auguste told the guard “Leave.” 

“Are you pretending?” he asked when they were alone. “Or do you truly not remember?” 

“Pretending?” 

“Laurent. I know it is you.” 

“Your brother is dead,” Laurent said. 

“Evidently, he is not.” When Laurent didn’t reply, Auguste continued: “You were 8 or… maybe 9 when you decided that you were too old to be called Lou-Lou. From then on, we just called you Lou. Most of the time, anyway.” 

“I…” Laurent swallowed, shrinking back. 

“Your brother. He died 5 years ago, did he not?” Damen asked. 

“No,” Auguste said. “He went missing seven years ago, a day or two before we were to meet the Akileon troops on the battlefield.” 

“That’s why you retreated.” 

Auguste raised his eyebrows. “You were there?” 

Damen opened his mouth, but Laurent was quicker: “So why did you only send out a word of your brother’s death 5 years ago?” 

“That’s how long father allowed me to keep sending out search parties. Then he finally ordered me to stop, so that we and the country could properly mourn.” 

“Was Laurent at Marlas?” Damen asked. 

“He was a day or so behind the main camp. One of his guards alerted us that he - you - had somehow - and for a reason, we still don’t know - left the camp unnoticed. We do know that some bandits robbed your gold and valuables and that someone shot your horse dead. Other than that, we know nothing.” 

Laurent’s eyes were huge, his fingers squeezing Damen’s bicep. “It’s not possible.” 

“Lou…” Damen’s voice was soft and it seemed to soothe Laurent somewhat. “I think… Lou, you are him. You are Laurent.” 

“I… I’m just a peasant.” 

“No, you’re not,” Auguste said gently. “You are Laurent, Prince of Vere, my younger brother, and the heir apparent to the throne of Vere after my coronation. Yes, it must be overwhelming,” he added when Laurent closed his eyes. “I’m barely convinced that I am not dreaming. Oh, how many times I’ve dreamt that I’d find you. Although… The circumstances were always much better.” 

“They were supposed to be.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“The circumstances. They were supposed to be much better,” Laurent said. When he opened his eyes, they were angry. “Did you help Kastor murder the crown prince of Akileos?” 

“What?” 

“Did you?” 

“No!” 

“Laurent…” 

“Don’t call me that!” Laurent snapped at Damen. “Not you.” He then turned to Auguste again and there was a strange fire in his eyes. “Would I trust you? If I remembered you?” 

A cold hand squeezed Auguste’s heart but he fought to keep his voice steady when he said: “Yes.” 

“What do you think?” Laurent asked Damen.

“Out of the two of us, you’d know if he was lying,” Damen replied. 

Laurent’s mouth twitched and Auguste could see he was weighing his options. The expression on his face was the same Auguste remembered from years ago when the two of them were playing chess. 

Oh, how he wished to embrace Laurent. 

“Very well then. King Auguste of Vere, meet Damianos, the King of Akileos as of two days ago.”

Auguste blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

“This is Damianos, the king of Akileos. If you would be so kind as to unchain him as well and maybe together we can figure out who in Vere wanted him dead. Also, tell me,” Laurent said. “How did your father die?” 

* * *

**Laurent**

“Lou. Lou! Laurent!”

“Mm?” Laurent woke up slowly. He yawned and stretched before his eyes focused on Auguste, who was grinning beside his bed. “What?”

“Let’s go riding.”

Laurent frowned. His curtains were still closed, but he knew it was still dark outside. “The sun’s not even up yet,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Exactly. Let’s go catch the sunrise.” 

Laurent would have followed his brother anywhere, so he did not need much convincing. The two of them hurried their way to the stables with two guards hot on their heels. Laurent was surprised to see his pony, Daisy, and Auguste’s horse ready and waiting for them. 

They rode down a familiar road to a clearing where they urged their rides to a gallop just as the first rays of sun peeked from the horizon. Laurent laughed as he crossed the finish line first and slowed down to wait for Auguste to finish as well. 

“I win!” he cheered. “Again. You might consider a younger horse,” he said. 

“I still wouldn’t win. You’re the best rider in the kingdom,” Auguste said with a smile. “And hey, look,” he added as the sun climbed higher, painting the sky with bright colors. “Was this not worth waking up a little earlier than what’s comfortable?” 

“Yes,” Laurent said. “Thank you, Gusti.” 

“You’re welcome, Lou-Lou.” 

Laurent wrinkled his nose. “I’ve told you, I’m too old for that.” 

“Yes, many times. But as I’m your older brother, I’m allowed a few exceptions.”

“Mother says…” 

Laurent paused. A heavy feeling dropped into his stomach and his mouth tightened into a hard line as he fought back sudden tears. 

“What does she say?” Auguste asked gently. 

“She - she says I’m already smarter than you. Even if you’re older,” Laurent answered. “I think she was just jesting.” 

“No, she was absolutely right,” Auguste said. “You are smart, much smarter than many of my advisors. You will be my most valuable councilor one day.” 

Auguste said that often, but this time it didn’t brighten Laurent’s mood. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?” 

It was almost a whisper, but Auguste heard him anyway. 

“Laurent…”

“It’s all right. You don’t have to lie to me. I’ve known for a while.” Laurent sighed. “It’s the way everyone looks when they leave her room.” 

“You really are smarter than everyone else,” Auguste said. “I just wished we could have kept this from you a little longer.”

“No, it’s better like this. Now I can… prepare.” 

Auguste leaned forward on his horse to place his hand on Laurent’s thigh. Laurent put his own hand on top of his brother’s and squeezed. They stayed on the clearing until the sun was high in the sky. 

  
  


“Why can’t I come with you?” 

Laurent knew he sounded like a child, but he couldn’t help it. He was glad that he was still able to keep his tears at bay. 

“It’s too dangerous,” Auguste replied. He was still as patient as ever, even though he had told Laurent the same thing for at least four times now. “You’re 13. You can’t be on the battlefield.” 

“Then why do you have to go?” Laurent asked. “You’re the crown prince!” 

Auguste sighed and turned to face Laurent. “I can’t ask our men to fight for our country if I’m not willing to do it myself.” 

“But what if something happens? What if… What if you don’t…?” Laurent swallowed the rest of the sentence, as the thought alone made his throat close up. “Vere would have no heir,” he said quietly. 

“What are you, then?” 

Laurent’s eyes widened. “No. No, I… I could never be king!” 

“And why not?” 

“I… No. No. No! You have you to come back, Auguste! You have to!” 

Auguste closed the small distance between them and put his hands on Laurent’s shoulders. “I have never lied to you,” he started. “This is war, Laurent. I might not come back. Father might not come back.” 

A hot, big tear fell from the corner of Laurent’s eye. He didn’t move to wipe it away, he simply stared at the wall of the tent, unmoving, unwilling to understand what Auguste was saying. 

“This could be goodbye, Laurent.” 

“No.”

Auguste hooked a finger under Laurent’s chin and gently forced him to look at him. “Whatever happens, the war will be over soon. Focus on that, all right?” He combed his fingers through Laurent’s hair. “You’d make a wonderful king, Lou. But I will do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to.” 

Laurent opened his mouth to reply but just then they heard: “Your Highness?” from outside their tent and then Jord entered. “Your father sent me to tell you it is time to go.” 

They could have been standing in front of the entire army and it still would not have stopped Laurent’s immediate reaction to those words. He all but collapsed into Auguste’s arms and his sobs shook his entire body. 

“Hey, hey…” 

“Please come back. Please.” 

“Lou… You know I can’t pro…”

“Lie to me,” Laurent cut him off. “Just once. Promise me you’ll come back. Please. Promise me.” 

Auguste hugged Laurent tighter. “Gods, Lou, I love you so much,” he said quietly. “I promise.” Laurent felt a kiss on the crown of his head. “I promise you, Lou. I promise.” 

**Lou**

When Lou woke up after his first night in the Akileon palace, Damen was already there with a tray of breakfast. Damen didn’t comment on the obviously late hour but said “Good morning,” with that gentle smile that Lou had already grown to like. 

Everything around him confused Lou. Everything was unfamiliar down to the language that he barely understood. What made it worse was that he didn’t have anything to compare his surroundings to. Hard as he tried, all he could remember was shadows, faceless figures, and voices that did not sound quite right. He hung onto that one word he did hear in his dreams, that soft ‘Lou’ that he hoped was his real name. 

In all his confusion, Damen had become a constant. Damen was the one thing around that was not confusing and Lou found himself hoping, rather childishly, that Damen would not grow tired of playing host to him. 

They ate in silence that morning. The physicians came to check Lou’s wounds, confirmed them to be healing and not long after they had left, Damen had to excuse himself as well. Lou didn’t mind the solitude but welcomed Damen’s company in the evening eagerly. 

Days went by like that for a week or so until Damen asked if Lou felt strong enough to explore the palace and its gardens. That’s how they spent that afternoon and the next and the next and all of a sudden, or so it felt, Lou had spent a month in Ios under Damen’s unwavering protection. 

If this was his life now, Lou thought as he munched on fresh fruit, maybe one day he wouldn’t feel the hole that his memories had left behind. 

“You look thoughtful.” 

“I think…” Lou started, stroking the nose of the horse in front of them. “I think I like them.”

Damen tilted his head. “Horses, you mean?”

“Yes,” Lou replied. He smiled a little and moved his hand to pet the horse’s neck. “He’s beautiful.”

“Yes, he is. He’s my father’s.”

Lou immediately stepped back. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

“It’s all right,” Damen said. “I think he likes you, too. He’s rarely this at ease with people.” 

Encouraged by Damen’s smile, Laurent put his hand on the horse’s neck again. “There’s something… something…”

“Familiar?” Damen supplied. 

“I guess. I don’t know. I think maybe… I know how to ride?” 

“Do you want to try?” Damen asked. 

“It’s getting dark,” Laurent said. 

“Maybe not today then. But we’ll find the time, soon,” Damen promised. “Who knows, it might…”

“I don’t want to hope,” Lou cut him off. “Also…”

“Also…?” Damen prompted when Lou didn’t continue. 

“I’m… scared.”

“About what?”

“What if I do remember one day and… and there’s no one? What if… what if I remember I’m alone?” 

Lou knew his voice was thin and childlike. He also knew, though, that Damen wouldn’t judge him for it and the thought made him feel at ease. 

“I doubt that is the case,” Damen said. “But… if it is. Then your home is here.” 

Damen sounded so sure, like he was just stating a simple fact. “I’m a foundling with no real name,” Lou said. “What could I be in Akileon royal court?”

“Oh, Lou,” Damen chuckled. “I think there’s more to you than meets the eye. And I can’t wait for you to reach your full potential.” 

Lou felt himself blush and could only hope it was dark enough that Damen didn’t see it. 

  
  


“I thought our lessons were to be private.”

Laurent wiped the sweat off his brow and cursed the world. Of course, Damen would walk in now that he was on his back in the dust. 

“He said he needs more lessons than what you have time for,” Nikandros explained on Laurent's behalf. “Apologies, I didn’t know…”

“I’m not offended, Nik, just surprised,” Damen said and he did sound merely amused. “I believe you didn’t think you’d need to learn.” He was standing above Lou now, looking down on him. 

“I admit to being wrong,” Lou said. “I do actually enjoy it.” 

He accepted Damen’s hand and stood up. His muscles were aching but he was learning to embrace the sensation. 

“You have taught him well, Damen. It won’t be long before he can actually challenge us,” Nikandros said. 

Lou knew Nikandros didn’t give out false compliments and the praise made him feel oddly proud. 

“I look forward to that day,” Damen said. “And, I have some good news.”

“Oh?”

“Father has given me permission to visit the Summer Palace. It’s less crowded and therefore more comfortable when the summer is at its hottest,” Damen said. “I am bringing you with me,” he told Lou. “And you, Nikandros, are invited as an honored guest.”

“The honor is mine, Exalted,” Nikandros said with a small bow. 

Laurent felt his heart pick up speed, but he could not quite understand why. “The Summer Palace?” he repeated. 

“Yes. It’s a beautiful place, I’m sure you will love it. I can even teach you to swim, finally,” Damen said. 

“Are you sure it is appropriate to bring me there?”

“Lou, you have been with us for two years. You are part of this court and one of my closest friends. No one will think twice about you coming along,” Damen said. 

“But shouldn’t such a place be saved for… someone you are courting?” Lou asked. 

Damen threw his back in laughter. “Oh, but that will be years from now,” he said. “Such a place should be enjoyed. Come one now, let’s go eat and discuss our plans.” 

Lou felt his heart break a little bit and he hated himself for it. He hated how the beauty of the Summer Palace was almost lost to him as his mind was clouded by jealousy mixed with his complicated thoughts of slavery. He hated how Damen’s friendship almost did not feel enough anymore. 

He hated how he wanted more when he already had everything. 

“You’re the Veretian.”

Lou closed his eyes and slowly counted to five. He could only remember drinking two cups but the wine was making him slow and unsteady and any attention he received was unwanted.

“Why, but you are pretty.”

“Don’t!” Lou exclaimed as a hand closed around his elbow. The hand did not let go, though, and Lou was forced to face a man close to Damen’s age. His eyes were glassy in a way that spoke of too much wine. The noise of the party could still be heard and Lou knew if he screamed loud enough, he’d alert the guards. 

Who the guards would side with, that he didn’t know. 

“Do let go,” he said. 

“Have you heard the rumors about you?” the man asked instead of acknowledging Lou’s request. 

“I have heard several, yes,” Lou replied. 

“How many of them are true?” 

_ None.  _ “Most.”

“Hm. So you  _ are _ a lost prince?” 

Lou tried to yank his arm away again, but the grip on it only tightened. “I said most. Not all.” 

“How have you enticed him, then?”  _ I haven’t.  _ “It’s said your royal cock provides royal pleasures. But if that is not true, then what is it?” 

Lou’s back was against the wall now, and his heartbeat started to quicken. He wished he had a sword or that he had accepted the invitation to learn wrestling. 

“I’ve been told Veretians enjoy public displays of all sorts.”

“So I’ve read,” Lou said. “I wouldn’t know.”

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? The prince keeps you safe and hidden, private. Shame.” He was too close now. Lou could smell the wine in his breath. Something poked the back of his mind, something ugly and scary. “Should we see if there’s any Veretian left in you, hm? Bet I could get the best use out of you, taking you in your natural…”

“Hey!” 

Lou let out a relieved breath and in the next moment, the man was being pulled off him and his arm was released. Nikandros shoved the man away and told him in no uncertain terms what would happen to him when Damen was told of this. 

“Don’t tell him,” Lou said as the man hurried away. 

“What? Why? Lou, he…”

"I know what he tried to do,” Lou snapped. “And I don’t want Damen to know. It’s his day, I want him to celebrate and not worry about anything.” 

“He already worries. That’s why he sent me after you,” Nikandros said. “I will not lie to him.” 

Lou sighed. “Wait until morning, at least. I want him to enjoy tonight. Please.” 

“He values you far more than his own enjoyment.” 

“I know. That’s why I am asking you to please not tell him tonight,” Lou said. The wine was making him dizzy and he started taking steps towards his rooms. 

“You should value yourself above his enjoyment, too,” Nikandros said. 

“Maybe one day,” Lou said back and with that, left Nikandros standing in the empty hallway. 

He made it to his rooms without further incident and leaned against the closed door for a moment before unpinning his chiton and collapsing onto his bed. He wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep when all of a sudden his door was once again opened and Damen stumbled in, clearly drunk but somewhat coherent. He blinked as Lou slowly got up enough to lean on his elbows. 

“You - you’re alone?”

“Of course I’m alone,” Lou huffed, his voice rough. 

“Good. That’s… good,” Damen said. He took another step in and closed the door again. “Someone was… being rude. Saying rude things. About you. I thought...” 

Not a smart one, then, as he apparently had not taken Nikandros’ warnings to heart. “Would you mind?” he heard himself asking. “If I did bring someone back here?”

It seemed to take Damen a moment to comprehend what he was asking. “I… I have no right to deny you anything.”

“You do,” Lou corrected him. “But that’s not what I asked.” 

“I want you to… to find… happiness.”

“Again, not what I asked.”

Damen groaned. “Your question is too hard,” he whined. “I’m too - too drunk.”

“You stormed in here thinking I was with someone, did you not?” 

“I’m too drunk,” Damen said again as he fell onto the bed next to Lou. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

Lou watched as Damen’s breaths evened out, his head fell to the side and his limbs relaxed. “I won’t,” he whispered and pushed back a strand of hair from Damen’s forehead. “Whatever the answer, it won’t be what I want to hear.” 

A little drunk himself and exhausted, sleep found Lou easily when he lay his head down onto his pillows. When he woke up, it was late, and Damen was still asleep in the same position he had fallen asleep in. His breaths were coming out as soft snores and the corner of Lou’s mouth lifted. 

“I love you.” 

No one heard him. 

Damen did eventually find out what had really happened. Lou never learned the name of the man, but he was never seen in the palace again. 

Damen never explained why the thought of Lou spending the night with someone bothered him so much. 

Lou knew he had made a mistake but he refused to back down. Damen had escorted him to his rooms, his hand holding onto Lou’s arm as if he thought Lou would try to escape. He didn’t let go until the door of Lou’s room was closed and the two of them were alone. 

“I meant no offense,” Lou said when Damen didn’t speak. 

“Well, you caused offense nonetheless,” Damen said. His tone was flat. 

“You know what I think of…”

“Yes. I know. But there is a reason why we have kept such thoughts from my father and Kastor,” Damen said. 

Lou crossed his arms across his chest. “So I was just supposed to accept their kind gift?” 

“It would have been wise.” 

“Wise, perhaps, but not right.”

“Damn you, Lou, that slave  _ will _ be given to someone! Do you think that someone will be more kind than you?” Damen snapped. Lou pressed his lips into a thin line. “Also, do you not understand what kind of honor it is to receive such a gift from the king? He thinks you are important enough to have your own slave! And you thought of yourself important enough to refuse!”

“I don’t want to be important enough to have my own slave!” Lou shouted. “I do not care what position I hold in this palace or what the courtiers think of me! I only care about…” 

He stopped then and turned away. He felt dangerously close to losing control over what he was saying and he refused to reveal his heart in this way. 

“You only care about what?” Damen asked. He sounded calmer now, but not completely happy. 

“I only care what you think,” Lou confessed quietly. A silence followed and for a moment Lou thought Damen would leave. 

Instead, he suddenly felt Damen’s hands on his shoulders. “You do not have to bed him.” 

“Damen…” 

“I know how strongly you feel about it,” Damen said. “Strongly enough that I have started to wonder if our customs could be changed.” 

This was news to Laurent. He turned around to face Damen and his surprise must have been evident because Damen chuckled. 

“Yes, you have quite a lot of influence, though you don’t seem to understand or want it,” he said. “But Lou… You have to accept the gift. Kastor will most certainly demand that you’ll be sent away otherwise and the offense is great enough that I don’t know if even my pleading will persuade father otherwise. Please…” Damen said when Lou opened his mouth to protest. “You can set him free if you want. I will make it so that the king and Kastor will never know. Just don’t give them a cause to banish you. My father has grown fond of you but he is a proud man and Kastor even more so. Accept the slave. We will figure out what to do together.” 

Finally, Lou nodded. The thought of having a slave of his own disgusted him but he trusted Damen and so he agreed even though it made his stomach turn. 

The king accepted his apology quite easily but the look in Kastor’s eyes was so venomous that it made Lou shudder. What alarmed Lou, even more, was the way the look didn’t change when it turned from Lou to Damen, who was expressing his gratitude on Lou’s behalf. 

Damen didn’t notice, but then again why would Damen have any cause to think Kastor harbored any ill thoughts towards him? Until then, Lou had had no cause to think so either. 

  
  


Lou gasped as Damen guided him to the bed and pushed him onto it. Their lips barely lost contact as they started to tug on each other’s clothes. 

How long he had dreamed of this, Lou would never admit out loud. 

“Wait, wait,” he said when Damen was just about to pull the chiton off him. 

“What?” Damen asked, breathless. 

Lou swallowed. A part of him begged him to just enjoy this now, bask in the attention with no care of tomorrow. A stronger and louder part, however, demanded that he did care about tomorrow, for his heart would not be able to handle an empty bed in the morning. 

“Is this… is this tonight only?” he asked quietly. When Damen looked confused, he continued: “If you’re just looking for relief, I beg you that you find…”

“No, no!” Damen said. His thumb stroked Lou’s cheek and then his hand cupped the back of Lou’s neck and tugged his hair gently in a way that made Lou’s stomach jump. “No, Lou, no. With you, I want everything.”

Oh, how Lou wanted to believe that. “It’s just a little sudden,” he said. 

“It may appear so. Even to me,” Damen chuckled. “But the way I feel right now is so overpowering that I think I have felt this way for a long time and just not realized it.”

“Overpowering?”

“I don’t know how else to explain it. It is as if a river has been released inside of me.”

A smile tugged Lou’s lips. “Why, aren’t you a poet now.” 

“You have always aimed to improve me,” Damen said and dived in for another kiss that Lou didn’t interrupt. 

Damen was gentle in ways that Lou had not thought possible. His sole ambition appeared to be Lou’s satisfaction and soon Lou’s world was made of stars and hazy, barely coherent thoughts. 

His climax came suddenly and strong and it left him breathless. He didn’t even have it in him to reprimand Damen for the proud look on his face. He allowed himself a few moments to just stare at the ceiling before finally turning to Damen who was still grinning. 

“You - you didn’t…”

“Hush, you,” Damen cut him off. “Let me take care of you.”

“But…”

“We have all night,” Damen said. 

“All night?”

“And way beyond,” Damen promised. “We have all the time in the world.”

  
  


Theomedes had found Akileos a queen. 

That’s what Lou thought when he first saw Jokaste. Their first conversation only confirmed his suspicion. Jokaste was not only beautiful in all the ways Lou knew Damen appreciated, but she was also witty and smart. She managed to make Damen laugh more than once during the first meal she joined and Lou could clearly see the pleased expression on the king’s face. 

She had all the qualities that Lou himself possessed. Her advantage was, of course, that she had a name and she was a woman. 

What she did not have, however, was the years of friendship turned to love between Damen and Lou. And those years were what brought Damen to Lou’s chambers that evening, instead of opting to stay behind and entertain Jokaste. 

“You have not been back here for a while,” Damen said when he came in. 

“I thought you might need privacy,” Lou replied. He was proud of himself that he didn’t sound accusatory. 

“I would not do that,” Damen said. His tone begged Lou to believe him. 

Lou sighed. “We both know it might not be up to you.” 

“Father cannot force me to court her,” Damen said. “I also believe she is proud enough that she does not want to be courted if it’s known someone else has my heart.”

“Oh, you soft-hearted fool,” Lou said fondly. “She did not come here to win your love. A king and queen do not have to love each other.” 

“Well, my soft heart loves you,” Damen said. “I am yours, completely, and you will never have to share me.” 

Lou shook his head fondly. “You are making false promises. Even if I will never share you with your wife, I will share you with your people. Which is as it should be,” he said when it looked like Damen wanted to argue. “You will be a king one day and your people should always be your first priority. I will not love a soft-hearted fool who ignores the needs of his country to pursue his personal happiness.” 

“It sounds like you would make a great king,” Damen said. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Lou laughed. “Also, Damen… Damen, tell me you know I am not selfish enough to demand you stay unwed.”

“Are you saying it wouldn’t hurt you?” 

Lou opened his mouth to claim ‘no’, but the word didn’t come out. Damen raised his eyebrows. “That’s - that’s not the point.” 

“But it is,” Damen said. “And to me, it always will be.” 

“I don’t want you to quarrel with your father.”

“I think I will have to. He will not be happy with me.” 

He wasn’t, but Lou was ultimately more worried about how quickly Jokaste accepted the consolation prize that was Kastor. 

  
  


Disoriented with sleep and surprise, Lou didn’t even notice the knife on his neck before Damen’s desperate: “NO! No, please. Don’t.” 

“Keeping him alive will make him more obedient,” one of the soldiers said flatly to the one who had the knife against Lou’s throat. He then turned to Damen, who was being held back by no less than four soldiers. “Do as you’re told and your little whore will keep his head.” 

Lou could see how Damen’s pride fought with his concern for Lou’s safety. Ultimately, the concern won, and he allowed the soldiers to lead him out of his rooms. “Who sent you?” he demanded loudly. 

“The king,” the soldier said. 

Lou’s heart was seized by a cold hand. The shock he felt was mirrored on Damen’s face. “Father?”

“Your father is dead. Kastor is king now.” 

No. No, no, no, no… 

Lou had thought he had more time. More time to observe, to listen, to watch. To gather enough evidence that Damen would believe his brother had less than honorable intentions. 

They were almost there before Lou realized where they were taken. Damen noticed it, too, and for a moment, his pride triumphed. He started to struggle against his restraints but didn’t manage to break free. Soon, they were being stripped against their will and Lou knew that whatever humiliation he felt, Damen felt it ten-fold. 

As they were forced into the baths, the slave keeper stepped in. Lou saw the fire in Damen’s eyes as Adrastus approached and knew that if Damen had access to a sword, the man would be dead in a matter of seconds. 

“You would not dare to lay a hand on me,” Damen said and his tone was darker than Lou had ever heard. “And if you touch him, I swear I will kill you.”

“I am under orders.”

“I will. Kill you,” Damen repeated. 

Lou shivered, despite the warm water. 

Adrastus stepped back from the edge of the bath. “He is prettier than any slave here,” he said. “I always did think it was a shame you didn’t allow him to be trained. He would probably be able to calm you down now. As things are, I must stress what the soldiers have already told you: Lou will not be killed as long as you don’t struggle.” 

“This was your own doing,” came a voice from behind the slave keeper. Jokaste was as beautiful as ever and the slight smile on her lips spoke of her confidence over her victory. 

“I want to speak to my brother,” Damen demanded. 

“You have no brother,” Jokaste said. “No name, or family. Nothing. Just like him.” She turned her gaze to Lou for a brief moment. 

“I have him,” Lou said. 

“Yes. The love of a dead prince.”

“I am not dead.”

“Oh,” Jokaste laughed. “But you are.” 

  
  


As consciousness returned slowly, Lou first realized he was bound. Then, that he was on a ship. Finally, he recognized the language spoken around him as Veretian. 

Whatever drugs Lou had in his veins could not block the panic that followed the realization that Damen was in a ship full of Veretians. They had no way of knowing what would happen if they discovered who Damen really was. Lou, at least, had the advantage of being a nobody. 

“Laurent?” 

Or so he had thought. 

  
  


“Lou.” 

Lou could feel Damen’s gaze on him and heard the frustration creeping into his voice. They had been sneaked into spacious rooms by two guards the King of Vere - Auguste - claimed to trust. No amount of assurances from anyone, however, could stop Lou’s racing thoughts or his building unease with this situation. 

“Lou!” 

“How is this happening?” Lou mumbled under his breath. “ _ What _ is happening?”

“We don’t have to…”

“I haven’t been this disoriented since the day I woke up in your tents!” 

“Please, Lou, sit…”

“I thought I’d remember.” Damen, sitting on a bed in the middle of the room, raised his eyebrows in question. “I thought… if I ever did find my family. That I’d remember.”

“None of this is familiar to you?”

Lou looked around the room. They were so unlike his rooms in Ios but the style did not feel completely strange. The room itself did not stir anything in Lou’s mind but the textures and colors were as if: “...a dream I had a long ago.” 

“Huh?”

“I feel like I’m walking in a half-forgotten dream,” Lou said more loudly. 

“Maybe you are beginning to remember then,” Damen said. He was smiling but there was something odd in his eyes, too. 

“I accepted my reality a long time ago,” Lou said. “I was - am - content just being Lou.” 

“Well, being Prince Laurent of Vere has one clear advantage.”

“And what is that?”

“No one can oppose our marriage now.”

Lou huffed. “You think the Kyroi will just accept your marriage to the Prince of Vere?” 

“The peace between our countries was signed without negotiations. It has always been fragile and easy to break. What better way to finally solidify it than me marrying you now that we know who you really are. That is, of course… If you want to come back.”

Never before had Lou heard Damen so unsure. “ _ If _ I want to come back?”

“You have found your family.”

“I don’t remember him.” 

“You have always remembered the name he called you. That never disappeared. I believe he’s in your mind somewhere and now that you are home, it is only a matter of time that it will all return to you.” 

“My home is with you,” Lou said. “No matter what happens or what I…” 

“Apologies.” The door was swung open without a warning. Auguste stepped in with two people in tow, a young boy in expensive jewels and a soldier who froze in the doorway when he saw Lou. “Sneaking in one’s own castle unseen is harder than what I anticipated.” 

“You’re just bad at sneaking,” the boy retorted. He walked about with confidence that bordered on arrogance. “Who are they then?” he asked. He looked mildly interested as he observed the new strangers in a way that made Lou feel like he was being analyzed “The giant at least is not one of us. And the other… Oh! Huh.” The boy stepped closer, hands on his hips. “You have the same eyes. And nose. But you’re pretty enough to be a pet,” he said. He turned around to Auguste. “You found him, then.” 

“Yes, but…”

“Where have you been?” the boy demanded. “You are obviously alive, why didn’t you come home?” 

Lou was momentarily struck silent by the accusation in the boy’s voice. “We have a brother?” he finally asked. 

“Pfft. No,” the boy said before Auguste could reply. “I’m Nicaise. I’m his…” 

“Pet?” Damen guessed and Laurent recognized the danger from his tone. 

“No,” Auguste answered firmly. “He’s my ward. I can forgive your mistake as he does like his jewelry. But rest assured now that I am king, I intend to make pets his age illegal.” 

“I’m also his spy,” Nicaise said proudly. 

“Unofficially at least,” Auguste sighed. “And to answer your question on my brother’s behalf, Nicaise, it would appear he was injured quite badly when he disappeared. He doesn’t remember being Laurent. Or… or me.” 

Lou felt a twinge of sympathy. It must have been draining, to first feel so elated to have found a long lost and much-loved brother and then to practically lose him all over again. 

“Oh, Gods…” 

“Jord, don’t.” 

Only then did Lou pay attention to the guard at the door. There was deep regret in his expression. 

“I should have…” 

“I didn’t bring you here to open those wounds again, Jord. You are here because I trust you,” Auguste said. “He was there the night you disappeared,” Auguste explained to Lou and Damen. “He was the one who came to alert us that you were gone.” 

“And you ended up a slave,” Nicaise huffed. Jord winced. “Unfortunate.” 

“I didn’t,” Lou said. “I’m not a slave. I’m…” 

“What?” Nicaise asked when Lou paused, unsure how to describe his position in the Akileon court. 

“My betrothed,” Damen said. Lou’s heart jumped and it was the first pleasant feeling he had experienced in a few days. 

“Wait. I’m sorry - your… betrothed?” Auguste said.

“He speaks as if we had time to make it official,” Lou said. “With no name or ranking, I wasn’t exactly the ideal candidate for a spouse to the Crown Prince.” 

“No way,” Nicaise laughed. “This dirty brute is the almighty Damianos of Akileos? Doesn’t exactly fit the description. Well. Besides for his size.” 

“We did not exactly volunteer to appear as we do,” Lou said. “I can assure you, he appears more a prince even now than the usurper on his throne could ever. Which brings us back to the rather urgent matter at hand. We know who killed our king. Do you have suspicions as to who killed yours?”

“Auguste says he fell ill,” Nicaise said. Lou could hear that he did not agree and his respect for the boy grew immediately. 

“Can we circle back to the betrothment first?” Auguste asked. 

“Why? Two kings have been murdered, I do not believe our engagement is what we should discuss right now.” 

“But our father…”

“My father fell ill as well. His health declined slowly at first and then all of sudden he was bound to the bed. The physicians could not tell me what caused it nor did they know how to heal him. Does this sound familiar at all?” Damen asked. 

“That is exactly what happened,” Jord answered. “Even Paschal could not figure out what caused such a quick decline in the king’s health. Age could not explain it, he was not quite old enough.”

“So we have to assume that someone in your court has been plotting with Kastor for some time now,” Lou concluded. “Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“His uncle,” Nicaise said right away. “ _ Your _ uncle, I guess. The late king’s brother. He’s due back from his travels for the coronation.” 

“We cannot know that,” Auguste said but it was obvious he believed it to be true as well. “And even if we did, he’s hidden his betrayal well. There was even an assassination attempt against him.”

“That was staged, I’d bet my life on it,” Nicaise said. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” 

“I can find proof.” 

“No.”

“You know I can…”

“ _ No _ .” There was a short, silent conversation between the king and the ward that Auguste seemed to win as Nicaise shrunk back, sulking. “It’s too dangerous. We have to work carefully which means we have to work slowly. It will be frustrating but we can’t risk that whoever is behind this finds out that we are onto them.”

“What if we work too slowly and you end up dead?” Nicaise asked. 

“That is a risk we have to take. Otherwise, we will all be dead soon.” He turned back to Lou and Damen. “Is there anyone in Akileos that you trust completely?” 

“Nikandros,” both Lou and Damen said at the same time. “The Kyroi of Delpha,” Lou explained further. “If he’s already heard of Damen’s supposed death, though, he might be on his way to Ios.” 

“And you are sure he will not side with Kastor?” 

“Yes.” Again, they spoke at the same time. 

“Very good then. We will send a messenger to him right away. For all we know, our Uncle’s travels include Ios as well. In any case, we have to assume they are both gathering their supporters. We need all the help we can get.”

Confided in a single room to make sure no one saw them, time moved slowly. Lou and Damen tried to pass time by making plans for both if Nikandros did get their message and if he did not. All plans included bloodshed and it made Lou squeamish to think Damen might have to face his brother. They had not spoken of such possibility but it hung in the air between them, evident in the way Damen tensed every time his brother was mentioned. 

Auguste visited them every evening. He never had news, but the impending return of his uncle made him visibly nervous. Lou observed him as he and Damen discussed strategies with heads close together. They could have been great friends, Lou thought, maybe they still would be, when this small matter of coup in their countries was solved. Nicaise was with him most of the time, most likely because Auguste wanted to keep an eye on him, and he was growing more and more restless as no action was taken. 

One evening, when Auguste again came through the door with Nicaise, the boy seemed more relaxed. Lou didn’t ask about it, but he was suddenly sure that out of all of them, at that moment Nicaise knew the most. 

“He… functions well,” Lou said one night after Auguste had left them. 

“What?” 

“Auguste. He functions well for someone who is so clearly agitated.”

Damen frowned. “What do you mean agitated?” 

“You can’t see it?” 

“No,” Damen said with a shake of his head. “Then again…” 

“Don’t say I know him.” 

“You do, though. Deep down.”

Lou pressed his mouth into a thin line and did not speak again before falling asleep. 

Four days before the coronation, the night before Auguste’s uncle was due to return, Lou woke up shivering. Damen stirred next to him but didn’t wake up. Briefly, Lou considered poking him awake but ultimately decided against it, as he found he actually craved the solitude. 

It was still dark out. Lou knew there were no guards behind the door as Auguste did not want to draw attention to the room that was supposed to be empty. Quietly, Lou got out of the bed and tiptoed his way to the door that he opened slowly. He made sure Damen was still asleep before closing the door behind him and started to make his way to the door through which they had been brought to the castle. 

As quietly as possible, he hurried to what he supposed was the servants’ entrance. He stopped before every corner and luckily, did not meet anyone on the way. The air outside was even colder than in their room, but after so many days trapped behind thick walls, he still welcomed the biting temperature. 

The servants’ entrance led to a dusty yard instead of the lavish gardens Lou had observed through their windows. There were footprints as well as animal tracks in the sand and Lou saw what could only be a stable a little further away. His feet decided to go there before his head had quite caught up and a moment later he opened the latch that kept the wooden door of the stable closed. 

Stables smell the same everywhere, was his first thought as he stepped in. It was oddly comforting. The horses didn’t seem to be too interested in the intruder if they reacted at all. Lou eyed them with critical detachment, sizing them as if they were going to raise against the Akileon royal horses. 

He stopped at a pen near the end of the long wall of horses. The horse there was smaller, the only pony in the stable. She lifted her head when Lou stopped and blinked her long eyelashes before stepping closer. Lou smiled when she nudged at him as if expecting treats. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and stroked the pony’s nose. “I don’t have anything for you.” The pony huffed. “I know. That’s very rude… of…” 

**Laurent**

It was nothing like Laurent had imagined it would be. It was just suddenly all back. It didn’t make him dizzy or overwhelmed. His first 13 years of life were simply there as if they had never gone. 

“...me,” he finished his sentence. “Daisy?” Daisy nudged him again. “You remembered me, huh? Oh, you clever girl. I’ll be back with a basket of apples, I promise you.” 

Daisy shook her mane as a reply. 

“I have to go now, though. My uncle is planning a coup. And you, my clever, clever girl, might have just helped us stop him.” 

To give himself time to adjust to his new reality, Laurent decided to revisit the hallways and corners of the palace that he now remembered to be his childhood home. It was still too early for it to be too busy in the palace and Laurent was able to avoid eye contact with anyone who happened to walk past him. 

A part of him wanted to rush back to his and Damen’s room, another part wanted to run and jump on Auguste’s bed as if he was 10 again. These two parts seemed to cancel each other out and he just kept walking, retracing steps from so long ago. 

Once upon a time, he had been a master at finding hiding places in the palace. He had caused so much trouble to his nurses and tutors. It was usually Auguste who’d find him and reprimand him gently before sending him back to his studies. A few days later, the palace would once again be turned upside down in pursuit of the young prince. 

As his mind wandered, Laurent turned a corner and found himself face to face with a portrait of the royal family. His young self was looking at him, standing next to his father the king, mother the queen, and his older brother the crown prince. 

“They say we have her eyes.” Laurent jumped at the unexpected voice and turned to see Auguste standing close enough to make Laurent wonder how he hadn’t heard him. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Laurent merely nodded. Seeing Auguste now that his memories were back made his heart race, his eyes burn, as his mind calculated the years they had lost. His life in Vere still felt separate from his life now, like it was a prequel to what was his main story. But it was no less real. He could now recall the smell of his mother’s perfume and the feeling of the fabric of her dresses. He remembered the soft carpet in his father’s study on which he would sometimes lie and slowly go through books that he did not yet understand while the king signed a seemingly endless pile of documents.    
And he remembered his brother, always there even when he wasn’t. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Hm? Oh, yes. Just… lost in thought.” Laurent reached out to touch the painting with his fingertips. “She was beautiful.” 

“Yes, she was,” Auguste agreed. 

“I miss her,” Laurent whispered. “I miss them both.” 

A small sound escaped Auguste, like a gasp but more surprised. “You… You do? Lou, do you…?”

“Laurent,” Laurent cut Auguste off. “My name is Laurent.” He turned to meet Auguste’s hopeful and yet guarded expression. His own vision was misty as he said: “Hello, Gusti.” 

Auguste let out a broken breath as he pulled Laurent into a bone-crushing hug right there in the hallway. A piece of Laurent’s heart clicked into place and he buried his face into Auguste’s shoulder. Many years ago, he had declared he’d one day be taller than his older brother. Now he was glad that he wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry I ran,” he said. “I’m sorry. I remember why now.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore. You’re home, that’s all I care about,” Auguste said. 

“I wish it were that simple,” Laurent sighed. He pulled away from the hug. “But it does matter still. We have to find Damen.”

\--

_...kill the crown prince and the king. We will keep the young prince alive for now, to avoid suspicions. For now, we will actually demand his guard to be doubled as he will be the only heir to the throne as the last living member of the royal family.  _

Laurent had read the words over and over again. He had memorized them, they were printed in his mind. He had had to leave the letter behind so his uncle wouldn’t immediately guess the reason for his departure and he could only hope that - if not the king - Auguste would believe him. 

These few lines, these few sentences were proof that his uncle was planning a murder, treason, a coup. His brother and father were going to die in the battle, whether the Akileons killed them or not. 

He could have alerted Jord and asked him to escort him to the main camp. Auguste trusted Jord. Laurent trusted Jord. But then again, until the moment of finding the criminating letter, Laurent had trusted his uncle. His uncle was a member of his family, his uncle had taught him to write and play chess. His uncle was the king’s most trusted advisor. So if he was capable of betraying his own blood, how could Laurent know who he had on his side? 

No, Laurent had to get this letter to Auguste alone. 

Being alone left him quite vulnerable. His horse’s gallop was steady and fast, but the horse could not protect him from the bandits that had blocked his way. His expensive coat and boots and circlet had been stolen but Laurent didn’t care so much about the valuables as he did about the time he had lost trying to get rid of the thieves. His break had been short and more for the horse’s sake than his own as he had not slept or eaten. He had enough adrenaline to stay alert even as exhaustion started to creep in. All Laurent had to do was reach the main camp, Auguste would take care of everything else. All he had to do was find Auguste. Warn him. Then he could rest. 

That was all he had to do. 

The sound of galloping hooves had forced Laurent to turn off the road. He couldn’t ride as fast in the forest and he wasn’t as sure of the direction but he had to avoid capture, had to avoid being dragged back to the followers’ camp. He’d find the main camp eventually, he knew it, if he just kept riding, if he could just reach them before they left for battle… 

There was a shout behind him. Another. Laurent couldn’t hear the words but they were urgent and not friendly. He urged his horse to be faster but there were definitely people now hot on his trail and they would not stop, Laurent knew that. 

“No, no, no…” he whispered desperately. “No, please, don’t let them reach me, please, I have to…” 

He was on the ground before he even realized what had happened. Pain exploded in his head as he gingerly got up to lean on his elbows. His horse was the ground with three arrows in him, blood oozing from the wounds. The voices were now closer, though still hidden by the trees. Groaning, Laurent stood up on shaking legs and started walking. He didn’t know or even care if he was going in the right direction. 

“Prince Laurent! Stop!” 

_ No… _

“Stop, you stupid child, you won’t get away!” 

Laurent screamed when an arrow went through his shoulder. He dropped onto his knees as his body gave up the hope to escape but a moment later, as the sound of horses and soldiers got closer, his mind forced him forward. 

He’d never know how close he had been. He would never know that Jord had already reached Auguste, that Auguste’s men were now looking for him, too. He would never know how another arrow had already been aimed at him when his foot stepped on nothing and he fell, down, down, down through the thick undergrowth that scratched him and tore his clothing. 

He was unconscious before the forest spat him out. 

\--

Laurent had been right to think Nicaise knew more than he let on. The letters he produced after hearing Laurent’s story had first caused Auguste to thoroughly reprimand him and then ultimately reward him, for the letters together with Laurent’s testimony were all the proof they needed for Uncle to be trialed and sentenced. 

What the letters also provided was evidence of Kastor’s treachery - they had known, but seeing his betrayal written with his own handwriting, sealed with his seal, caused Damen to punch his knuckles bloody. 

“Wow,” Nicaise said. “He left a hole on the wall, too.”

“Laurent…” Auguste started, his voice careful, and Laurent knew what he was going to ask “Did he ever…?”

“No,” Laurent said before Auguste could finish for he saw the thought alone brought his brother pain. “No, not like that. There were… touches…” he admitted - a touch of green appeared on Auguste’s cheeks while Damen’s rage turned murderous. “...but he would not have dared to have done anything that I would have realized was not all right at the time. If… If he had succeeded, then I don’t know.”

He did know. They all did. 

But he had not succeeded, for Laurent had derailed his plans 7 years ago, just as he had intended. For that whole time, he had been putting together a new plan, a plan to take over the country without anyone suspecting him. For a plan he had been hatching so long to be ruined so quickly and so magnificently was almost surreal to witness. 

He returned to find guards waiting for him. The guards escorted him to the throne room, where Auguste was already sitting in the place of the king, though his coronation was still days away. He started to protest, to demand he be explained why he was brought in front of the whole court this way - and then he saw Laurent. Not Lou, the boy from the side of the road with no name, but Laurent the Prince of Vere standing next to his brother’s throne with Damianos by his side. 

Laurent watched how his uncle realized right there and then that he was going to die. It was almost fascinating, to watch someone so confident that it had turned into arrogance realize how badly he had failed simply because he had not insisted to see a dead body. 

“He was a child!” he yelled out when Auguste listed the accusations against him. “He was a child and he’s been gone for 7 years! He’s planned this with the Akileons, he’s no longer…”

“It is you who has been planning with the Akileons, Uncle,” Auguste interrupted him. “One in particular. We have your correspondence with the bastard king Kastor. It’s your own word against your word.”

“You’ve gone through my personal quarters?” Uncle seethed through his teeth. 

“Yes. And I don’t have to justify that to you. You have betrayed your king and your country, twice. That alone is enough for a death sentence. As these plans failed, I may have shown you mercy. You are family, after all. Murdering our father, however, I cannot forgive.” 

“You make a mistake if you think I don’t have supporters. Supporters who think I’m in the right, who will gather forces and march for your throne if you execute me.”

“It is true you have a few powerful names in your corner,” Auguste admitted. “You have, however, named quite a few of them in your letters and I already have a plan in place as to how to deal with them.” He leaned forward on his throne. “Your confidence that you managed to disguise your true nature is really what has destroyed you. That your position and relation to the king would keep anyone from ever doubting anything.”

“You cannot think this is justified,” the uncle said, now addressing the others in the throne room. “I have only ever worked with Vere’s best interest at heart!” 

“You are a snake,” someone said. Laurent didn’t know his name, but his face was vaguely familiar from long ago when he had sat in the corner of boring meetings ‘to learn’. “It is about time we cut off your head.” He turned to Laurent, then. He was old and his smile made his wrinkles more prominent. “We are thrilled you have returned, my Prince.” 

Laurent nodded. He saw Auguste give him a sideways glance before returning his attention to their uncle. 

“You will be executed tomorrow at Midday. Until then, you will be held in the cells underneath the castle. Your pet,” he said loudly when his uncle opened his mouth. “Will not accompany you.” 

Only then did Laurent notice the young boy in the far corner of the throne room. Too small, too young, too skinny and so frightened and confused it made Laurent’s heart ache. He was standing there with Jord, who had a hand on his tiny shoulder to keep him from bolting. 

Laurent felt Damen shake next to him and took his hand, interlacing their fingers. 

“Now we just have to take back your kingdom,” he said quietly as he watched his uncle being dragged away. 

He had not seen the man in seven years. He’d never see him again.

“Our kingdom,” Damen replied. 

It was somewhat unsettling that what Damen said felt more right than ‘Prince of Vere’. 

Nikandros arrived a day before Auguste’s coronation. His soldier’s composure lasted until they were in private quarters where he hall but fell on his knees in front of Damen.

“You’re alive!” he gasped. “I - I don’t understand. We were told… I mourned! I… mourned. For both of you!” he said. 

“The whole kingdom was deceived,” Damen said. “But you are here now, and we can take back my throne. You will help us?” 

Nikandros’ loyalty was unmatched and he agreed without a second thought. When the planning began again, Laurent became acutely aware that he was suddenly facing a choice he had already made. 

Laurent had been too young to participate or - more importantly - to be taken seriously but he did remember the way his father had governed the kingdom. He remembered decisions he had, as a child, found unfair that he now realized were necessary. He remembered laws that he still did not agree with. He remembered thinking his father was wise but weird dumb and boring and he had been afraid Auguste would become like their father. Their father was the king, Auguste would become the king - and Laurent had thought all kings were alike. 

Watching the crown being placed on Auguste’s head, hearing the crowd roar his name, he knew all kings were different. Auguste would start a new era in Vere, Damen would start a new one in Akileos. 

Laurent wasn’t quite sure where he fit in either of those eras. 

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Laurent didn’t turn away from Daisy when he heard his brother’s voice. He kept stroking her nose, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest as Auguste approached. 

“I wanted to give you something.” 

Curious, Laurent shifted his attention to Auguste. Auguste held up a sword, a short one but beautiful nonetheless. Laurent recognizes it immediately. 

“My first real sword,” he said quietly. 

“Yes.” 

“You gave it to me. On my… sixth birthday?” 

“Seventh,” Auguste said. “You told me you’d rather fight people with words.” 

“I wanted to be your most trusted advisor,” Laurent said with a small smile. 

“You would have been.” Auguste gave the sword to Laurent, who held it carefully, tracing his fingers on the delicate decorations on the handle. “I can send you more of your old things once you have taken back the palace in Ios. This one, I think, you can carry with you now.” 

Laurent swallowed. “He reminds me of you,” he whispered. 

“Hm?” 

“Damen. You two… you are a lot alike.” 

“Well. I suppose in many ways we are.” 

“I think that’s why it was so easy for me to trust him. To fall in love with him. He was, in a way… familiar.” Laurent blinked away the tears that burned in his eyes. “I feel…” 

“Yes?” Auguste prompted when it took a moment for Laurent to continue. 

“...guilty.”

“What? Why?”

“This… All of this, it’s… This is where I grew up, it’s my country and my language, but… it’s not…”

“Home?” 

“Yes,” Laurent breathed out, relieved and even more guilty at the same time. 

“He has your heart. And I can see that he is treating it tenderly,” Auguste said. “Do you remember how you asked me to lie to you once?” Laurent nodded. “Do you want me to lie to you now?” 

“No.” 

“My heart will break to see you leave again. But,” Auguste said firmly when Laurent opened his mouth. “It would be crushed beyond repair to see you unhappy. You belong with Damen and Damen is the king of Akileos.”

“I am still your heir. You have the right to order me to stay.”

“True.”

“It would make this easier for me. If I had no choice.”

“I am not willing to take away your right to choose.” 

Laurent knew that. “We are leaving tomorrow,” he said. 

“Yes.” 

“I - I don’t know when…” 

“If I am not mistaken, there will be a wedding soon,” Auguste smiled. “I shall be gravely offended if I am not invited.” 

“We have to win, first. And… That’s… I… I can’t marry him. Not before you…”

“You will marry him whenever you want,” Auguste said. 

“But what if…”

“If after all this, I die without an heir… Well then. You’ll have to unify the countries, won’t you?” 

That prompted a smile out of Laurent. “What a thought.” 

“Isn’t it?”

“The summers…” Laurent started. “The summers in Akileos are… warm. Hot. Too hot, often, even after seven years.”

“Vere will always welcome you with open arms,” Auguste replied. “As will I.” 

“I will miss you. I feel like I miss you now, even with you standing right there. Like these weeks are not enough to make up for the years we lost.”

“They are not,” Auguste admitted. “We will never get those years back. But we have years and years ahead of us. Let us focus on that.” He placed his hands on Laurent’s shoulders, firm and solid. “I will miss you, too. I will bear it, because I will know you are where you are supposed to be. You are alive, you are happy and you have grown into a man loved and respected by many despite not knowing where you come from. I have tremendous respect for you, Laurent, and I have no doubt you will do great things as the thread that now binds our countries together.”

Laurent couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped him and Auguste gathered him into his arms. Laurent buried his face into Auguste’s shoulder and squeezed the fabric of his shirt. 

“I love you, Laurent.”

“...I love you, too.” 

Laurent returned to their rooms to find Damen alone. Damen smiled as he entered and Laurent managed a small smile in return.

“Did he find you?” Damen asked. 

“Yes,” Laurent answered. He came to sit next to Damen on the bed. The sky outside was darkening and the hour of their departure grew nearer. “Does Laurent of Vere belong in Akileos?” 

Damen blinked. “What?”

“So much changed. In so little time,” Laurent whispered. “All I know is that I belong with you. Lou belongs in Akileos. But does Laurent?”

“Are you saying you want to stay in Arles?” Damen’s voice was carefully neutral but heard an underlying tremor in it. 

“I will go with you wherever you go,” Laurent told him firmly. “I just wonder… if you still think Laurent will fit in the small role of Lou.” 

“Your role has never been small, Laurent. Not in my life or in Akileos. You may not have realized the change you started the day I found you but you managed to change the world view of the future king of the nation and thus rewrote the future of the entire country and its people. You took a hold of my heart the moment you opened your eyes in that tent and you held on and I fell so hopelessly in love with you that I would have married you the day I finally realized it. No matter what your name or official title is, you are the boy I found and watched grow into the man I love today. There is a place for you in Akileos, right by my side, if you still truly want to stay with me.”

Laurent took in the honest, open expression on Damen’s face and then leaned forward to catch his lips for a deep kiss. 

That night, they made love for the first time in Laurent’s childhood home. The moon had already started to descent when they finally gave in to sleep hours later. 

\--

With the help of Nikandros and the troops provided for them, the journey back to Akileos was met with little resistance. Soon, they were at the palace gates and it quickly became apparent that Kastor had chosen the road of violence instead of negotiation.

He ended up dead. 

Damen almost died, too. 

Laurent didn’t sleep properly until he opened his eyes. 

“You took care of me then,” he whispered when Damen told him to rest. “Let me take care of you now.” 

And so Laurent the Prince of Vere nursed the king Akileos back to health. 

\--

The midday sun was unforgiving, but Laurent was too restless to escape it to the cooler rooms of the Summer Palace as he kept his eyes at the end of the road, his hands squeezing the ledge of the balcony. 

“You are bouncing.” 

Damen sounded amused but Laurent blushed anyway. “It is… a historic occurrence.”

“That it is. But that is not why you are bouncing.” Damen circled his arms around Laurent’s middle. “I am excited, too.”

“He will find I did not exaggerate when I told him the summers here are hot,” Laurent said. 

“Hm. There’ll be plenty of wine to cool him down.”

“You have made sure his rooms are in the northern side?”

“Lou. He is here for his little brother’s wedding. He will not complain about the weather,” Damen said. Laurent didn’t reprimand him for the use of the name. 

“He might not complain but it does not mean he will not suffer from it,” Laurent said. 

“So. We’ll offer him a chiton.”

Laurent chuckled. 

“What? They suit you. Why not him?”

“I just… Can’t picture it.” 

“I had the foresight to bring him a selection to choose from. We’ll make sure he knows we are not offended if he chooses to favor Veretian clothing,” Damen said. 

“I… I may have written to him. And asked him to bring me to bring me a formal Veretian wedding attire,” Laurent admitted. “It might be a bit uncomfortable but I will switch for the celebration. I just… I thought it would be a symbolic gesture, to signify the newly found trust between our countries.”

“I think it is a wonderful idea,” Damen said. “I cannot wait to see you in it.”

“You will moan about all the laces you will have to untie.”

“You said you will change for the celebration.”

“Not before having you twice after the ceremony.”

Laurent took satisfaction from the way Damen’s eyes flared at that. “For that, I’d have you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“The King of Vere approaching.”

Laurent’s eyes widened and he turned to see where Damen was nodding. “He is here!” 

“Yes, he… Oh. All right. Formality be damned then,” Damen laughed as Laurent dashed off. 

“Your highness!” Nikandros greeted him right outside their rooms. “I was just coming to tell you, your brother…”

“I am aware!” Laurent said without letting Nikandros finish. He passed servants and nobility in the hallways but didn’t stop before he reached the front doors. He came to a halt at the top of the stairs, the prince side of him prompting him to wait for Damen to join him. “He is here,” he said again when Damen reached him. 

“He is,” Damen confirmed. “Go ahead. I know you want to.” 

They could see a lone figure that had separated from the main group and was riding towards them, fast. Laurent skipped down the stairs and started running up the road to meet him. Auguste brought his horse to a halt and jumped off just in time to catch Laurent in his arms. 

It was the very first time in a very long time that the King of Vere had visited Akileos. There would be formal speeches in the evening, many introductions that would be less exciting than the one the bewildered spectators around the two brothers witnessed now. Once upon a time, it would not have been proper for two kings to embrace like old friends before gifts were exchanged and empty words spoken. But Damen and Auguste merely shook hands briefly before figuratively throwing away their crowns, laughing as they patted each other in the back. 

Auguste did not complain about the weather but he did change into a chiton after a bath. Nicaise teased him about it, but to Laurent, he looked less awkward in it than Laurent had thought he would. Eventually, Nicaise too appeared to breakfast in a chiton of his own and stabbed Damen with a fork when Damen asked him with a grin if he enjoyed the sun.

Laurent was also surprised to discover that he did not feel weird in his formal, Veretian wedding attire a week later. It was a beautifully crafted piece of clothing that Laurent would store and cherish forever, and he felt more like the Prince of Vere than he had in almost 8 years. 

“Who would have thought you would be married before me?” Auguste smiled from where he was observing Laurent’s final preparations. 

“No one ever,” Laurent replied easily. 

“You resemble a doll made of porcelain,” Nicaise said. He had opted to wear a chiton for the occasion, a more decorated one that he had previously worn. 

“Nicaise, why don’t you go see if there are pastries for you to steal,” Auguste suggested gently. The boy hopped off the bed with a huff but didn’t argue. 

“I wish Mother and Father could see this,” Auguste said when the door closed behind Nicaise. “They’d be so proud. Not just for… for getting married but for all you’ve done.” Auguste stepped closer and placed a kiss on Laurent’s forehead. “ _ I’m _ proud of you.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

His voice didn’t waver, his tone was sure. If he had ever been ready for anything in his life, it was this. 

Auguste brought him to where Damen was waiting for him, with Nikandros on his right side. Laurent barely heard the words spoken, words that tied them together forever, for all he could see was Damen in his golden and white chiton, his red cape and lion pin and the laurel on his head that made him a king. Damen’s hands didn’t shake in his head and his eyes were a steady pool of calm that reflected Laurent’s own. 

They had been on the road to this moment for years, they both knew. 

They sealed the union with a kiss to the cheers of their guests, both Akileon and Veretian. As Laurent listened to the voices of his two countries mix together, he knew something would have always been missing if Damen had married Lou. As consuming as Damen’s presence in his life was, he would have never felt quite complete without his past. Content, yes. But not full. Because it wasn’t the name and title he had missed. It was the owner of the voice who had given him a name to call himself for seven years. 

“I think I can finally let go of the name Lou Lou,” Auguste laughed a few hours later, a little drunk. 

Laurent smiled. “Don’t,” he said softly. 

He was Lou and he was Laurent. He had Auguste and he had Damen. 

He was happy. 

He was home. 

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations, you made it to the end! 
> 
> I hope you liked it. 
> 
> I have another monster in the works, let's see if I finish that before I do eventually have to go back to the office. Postpone, don't cancel, right? :) 
> 
> Hugs!


End file.
